I told him.
That’s how I usually gauge how serious I am about something. If I tell A, most of the time I’m thinking pretty seriously about it and I’m hoping he’ll guide me the right way. Sometimes he gets excited about it and “talks” animatedly about it. That’s when I know I’ve got a good idea. Other times, he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes and tries to act excited (just in case I’m serious). That’s when I know I’ve hit a bust and should keep looking.
The list of things I want to do in 2010 keeps growing. So far, my poor friends and family have had to hear my ever-growing list of things I am going to accomplish this year. Like (1) read the reader-voted top 100 novels, (2) open an Etsy shop, (3) take a photography class, (4) learn to cook, (5) actually finish NaNoWriMo or a novel… or both…. the list goes on and on.
My piano sits dormant in my bedroom. Its not exactly the place I always thought my piano should sit. I didn’t wake up one morning and think, “I wish I stared at my piano first thing every morning.” There honestly is just no other place to put it.
The truth is, I miss it. We’re all good at something. We all end up finding it eventually and until someone goes “Hey! You’re good!” we don’t generally realize it. Piano was my thing.
For those of you who may not know, I went back to North Carolina last month for a few days. My presence in the old stomping ground a mere 11 months after my sudden departure was met with a strange mixture of confusion, joy, and anger. That is, when someone cared enough to show an emotion. Almost all of those who demonstrated pure joy at my existence had one penetrating question: Are you playing again?
Do I ever wish they were asking about Warcraft. Or even softball. I can explain why I gave those up. (“No, I’m sorry. I spend most of my internet time talking to someone special.” “I was unable to find a team that needed a horrible outfielder!”) But piano has always been a bit of a tricky one to explain. And now that my prolific instructor has passed away, everyone knew me as his prodigy. They want his legacy to be carried on by his one star pupil…
… who just so happened to have given up the instrument eleven years ago when aforementioned instructor gave me the ultimatum to either major in Piano Performance or get the hell out.
You probably have figured out what choice I made. But maybe I was wrong. I blog often about finding myself, finding what I want to do with myself, and being creative. I complain about the lack of excitement. Maybe I’ve just been looking in all the wrong places. Maybe doing something I know, love, and I am relatively good at will help me be more satisfied in my quest to be a normal, well-adjusted adult.
Maybe I can work this job I can’t stand for a little while longer if I know that when I get home…I can play piano and be good at something.