Monday, March 19, 2012

Pre-Recital Thoughts

For the very few of you who might not know, I've been more than a little stressed out about my upcoming senior recital. (It's next Monday, March 26th at 6:30 in the Center for the Arts Recital Hall here at Houghton, and you really should come).

I have spent the bulk of this semester consuming coffee and chocolate, spending late nights in the music building, and I've had more than my fair share of emotional breakdowns. I woke up this morning, with one week left to go before the recital, in full stress mode. To top it off, everyone was asking me, "Are you excited? There's just a week!" I really wanted to reply "Do you REALLY think that I don't realize I only have a WEEK to prepare for this?!"

After practicing for several hours, the control freak inside of me finally started to calm down. That's when I realized how fortunate I really am.

There's no reason that I should be able to perform a recital next week.

Take this semester. I started out being sick for almost two weeks. I'm the only clarinet major in the entire department, so my practice load is insane. I didn't have my repertoire finalized until less than 2 months before the recital date.

Or to look even further back - I developed wrist issues back in high school. When I came to college, I felt so intimidated by the other music majors, I clung to my new "non-major" friends that I met through East Meets West, and during the course of second semester, was hardly ever seen in the music building. That, and the tremendous workload of being a Music Education major in a honors program was killing me. I started my sophomore year still feeling unsure about being a music major, which was exacerbated by the development of TMJ and a worsening of my wrists, with no cure in sight.

At that point, I was ready to throw in the towel. Looking back, I don't really know what stopped me from switching majors. The only thing I really remember thinking was "If I decide to be a history teacher, then I'll have to grade papers. I might as well stay a music major."

Starting junior year, I had to fill the giant shoes left by two clarinet performance graduate students. But God moved mountains. That November, I finally saw a doctor who was able to diagnose my wrists - tendinitis in both, with a ganglion cyst in my left wrist. While there isn't a cure, I was given medication and was finally able to play without pain for the first time in four years. I remember crying the first time that happened. Previous years I had to choose between practicing clarinet or my secondary instruments - now I could do both, and still play in rehearsals. My ability to practice being restored, my broken spirit was slowly mended. I discovered that I could indeed perform solos in the major ensembles. I remember the first time I performed a clarinet solo in Philharmonia and didn't mess up on it. I was stunned. Perhaps I really was a musician after all.

Senior year has been filled with all sorts of emotions. I spent the fall semester student teaching, deepening my love for teaching, affirming that I was going into the right field. I developed new friendships with fellow senior musicians, sharing in the stress of writing lesson plans, and fretting about recitals, grad schools and the job market. I even expanded my hobby of baking to become my primary stress reducer (much to the chagrin of my friends who were trying to lose weight!)

As reflect on my journey to this moment, I have to sit in awed silence before God.

I am still able to play my clarinet. He's given me enough free time in my schedule to practice, substitute, get my homework done and still see my friends. He got me through four semesters of music theory and music history, as well as eight semesters of secondary instruments, student teaching and applying to grad school in the course of a week. And contrary to popular belief, I haven't been clinically diagnosed as insane (yet).

What I especially realized today, is that He's given me the most incredible people in my life. First, He gave me parents who, after discovering that their daughter ran away from the soccer ball, pushed and supported her through every single step of her music career. He's given me supportive instructors who have guided me through every twist and turn. He's given the most electric, wonderful, group of friends. There's the fellow music majors who suffered through lesson plans, long rehearsals, and fretting about recitals with me. There's my favorite girls from 3rd New who I can always go to when I need to de-stress by eating chocolate and coloring. There's my housemates who make tea for me, keep me laughing and even surprise me with homemade chocolate chip cookies when I think the world is caving in. There's my group of "non-major" friends, who allow me to escape from the world of music whenever I see them. And then there's my boyfriend, who patiently listens to every emotional breakdown, and is smart enough to send me chocolate in the mail.

So when it comes to my recital, there is absolutely nothing to stress over. There's a God who loves me, who gave me this gift to share. And He gave me people who will love and support me not matter how out of tune I play, or whether I can find a good reed.

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