Dreams and Destinations.

Changes happen in life. I just didn’t know one of my dreams would come to an end by my forgetting the second half of my sonatina at a piano recital in front of my peers! I was around fourteen years old, and we were grouped by proficiency level to individually play piano in front of a judge. This contest was one of the two, annual, semi-competitive elements of our piano-playing lives, called a Sonatina contest. The musical piece was something everyone practiced for months, memorizing and attending a designated "judgement day" that lasted a couple hours out of a Saturday. Most of the time, this took place at a local university and the halls would be buzzing with nerves and excitement as a bunch of little piano players found their area and waited expectantly to play. This particular Saturday I was one of a handful of performers who chose to play the movement. It was a quick, fun piece and I enjoyed playing it.

I won!

I was extremely excited to have made it to the Recital Hall, where every first-place winner, and occasionally the second, played their winning pieces the next day. The first time I stepped onto the stage with the grand piano I was in awe of the size of that instrument! It was a quality grand piano, easily three times bigger than the piano I played on at home.

This annual recital was a big deal. All students were required to dress up and come very early to be seated in order. I was excited to see my piano teacher enter right before it started. The piece that we had prepared was memorized, but I consciously practiced my fingerings and tempo while waiting for my turn. As I began my first few lines, I was surprised by the clarity of the sound. I loved how the melody echoed off the walls in the large university music hall. Then, right before the movement picked up pace—a part that I had played easily a hundred times at my house—the melody vanished. I couldn’t remember what measure to play. I paused, backed up a few memorized lines, and tried again. I still couldn’t remember what came next. I slowed down and resumed the melody a third time, but still got stuck on the same part. Standing at my place next to the bench, I bowed toward the audience like I had been taught and made my way back to my seat. My face flushed, mainly because my piano teacher had been watching me.

This was not the only time I’ve ever frozen under pressure, but it was probably one of the first major ones. I have failed many times in front of people in subsequent years and have learned that while it can definitely be embarrassing, it doesn’t have to be humiliating. I am not perfect and even mistakes often show me that I attempted something new or different. Without the action of trying I would never have gained the experience!

Currently, I don’t play the piano with the same regularity that I used to. I can still hear my dad whistling along to the tunes that I practiced weekly. This piano lesson is one that I haven’t forgotten, but it isn’t as painful as it once was. It will always be the same with something unusual or new that I want to try. I might attempt it once and then want to go back, thinking that it’s going to be the same at that piano experience or that I’ll fall flat on my face. But it isn’t the same. Every experience builds on the previous experiences. However, the hard truth is, sometimes I don’t get to go back and fix things. Sometimes I just have to see what I’ve learned from previous adventures.

***By the way, when I got home from that recital a couple hours later I played the entire song perfectly, just like I practiced. I returned the following year as a second-place winner after the first-place winner, a neighbor of mine, had a time conflict. This time, I didn’t focus so much on the beauty of my surroundings, but instead I worked on getting my notes just at the right pitch and emotion for the piece. It was just as I had practiced! I didn’t cease looking for beauty around me. In fact, I still find beauty in the piano. I bought my very own about ten years later and don’t practice nearly as much as I should! I also find beauty in other creative endeavors like art, writing, or going for a run.

That experience with the piano might have sobered me a little, but it did not diminish my excitement to try difficult things and to enjoy beauty around me. I am becoming more and more okay with making mistakes, partially because of entering my new escapade of teaching! Learning is a constant companion!