Across The Years
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2021 is not going to solve anything. I'm not usually one to look at the downside. And I’m not sure I am here, exactly. But still.
I get the importance of dates, of fresh starts, of the need to put something away and start something new. But we know dates are sort of made up, right? When we turn 18, we are not suddenly smarter, or wiser, or more cool-headed.
January 1st is not going to suddenly be better. Shitty things are still going to happen - a lot of them. Yes yes, we all say, we know. But we still look forward to the upcoming end of 'This Terrible Year' as if the terrible part will end with the calendar, as if the bad things that will continue to happen will be...less bad? We won't be able to attribute them to 'The Worst Year'; does this lessen our heartbreak? Are we using 2020 (in all its implications of the No Good Very Bad Year) as a reason to give ourselves hope that we won't experience such collective grief again? I'm certainly not arguing against hope. But I feel like we fall into the trap of 'of course this bad thing happened - it's 2020.' This thought pattern makes me uncomfortable. It removes agency from individual action and responsibility, while also indulging in a sort of the-world-is-out-to-get-me self-pity that I really dislike. Yes, 2020 has sucked, for many of us, in many ways. But really, does the universe - the entire UNIVERSE - care about our human ideas of time measurement? Simultaneously, did bad things only start to happen this year? Realizing bad things happen to other people was a big thing for some this year, but the bad things themselves weren’t like...new.
Do we get to count good things that happened in 2020? The vaccines have started to be administered...but it's still December. Are we allowed to put it in the good column, to give it full credit, despite it being in The Bad Year?
I understand wanting guideposts though. Otherwise, life can feel like a really long slog. Speaking of long slogs, piano can feel like a really long slog too (hey, notice that sweet transition?). It's one reason we have recitals. Concerts. Whatever. It's a moment to hold in our personal timeline, to say 'oh, last semester/year I was there, and now I'm here'. No matter our goals, whether it's getting one's nerves better under control, being more authentic and intimate in one's performance, or merely (ha) playing a more difficult piece, we look to these moments to mark our way forward.
So what am I arguing for: being perfectly (already, you see the problem) in the moment, while having the foresight to plan ahead, but still being flexible at every instant to what reality is, but still not be blown about by the vagaries of passing emotional/physical sensations? I know, dear reader, I’m laughing too. We can pile up the clichés about life being a journey not a destination, a direction not a destiny, to stop and smell the..oh, you know how it goes.
Let's go back to piano. Practicing.
—side note: every performer I know obsesses about their practice; 'am I practicing enough? [No. The answer is always No, even when Yes is appropriate.] How am I feeling about my practice? [Complicated. Always complicated.] Is it going well? [Ehh..] Am I getting anything done? [Ehhhhhhh….] I don't want to practice, but I am practicing; can I still feel like I'm being a dutiful musician if my heart isn't in it? What should I say when people ask me about my practice? [Etc.]
Though practicing is always a weird thing (see above), spending time at the piano has been especially unstable this year. I didn't touch it for the first like, 2 months of quarantine. Then I was super into it. Then I wanted to just sight read. Then I wanted to really delve into a set of pieces. Then I just wanted to sight read. I'm trying to hold my desire to be, and effectiveness, at the piano very lightly. It comes and goes. I try most days to spend some time there, I let myself try again later if lack of time or lack of brain prevents anything from happening. I'm fortunate I'm still able to make my living through teaching rather than playing, and don't have to practice for financial reasons. I can be the most intermittent of performers, as everything I do is entirely on my own schedule.
I have, however, fallen into the trap of taking a very long time to get anything done. Maybe what I dislike are arbitrary markers. Both for the good and the bad.
*having run out of piano pictures, I guess this blog will now be populated with pictures I’ve taken while hiking.