If life is work, then music is life

Months, maybe years, of agony and suffering

—practice sessions, after practice session;

then a performance, which may be a competition, or a spectacle that you may or may not be able to keep yourself together for;

then, a roaring applause.

Maybe, musicians should approach work like they approach music.

Let me take that back: speaking about “musicians” in general, including anyone who self-identifies as one and anyone who is identified by others as one, is too hard.

Maybe, I should approach work like I’ve approached music.

Let me take that back: I’ve run away from various instruments, including myself, many times. Reluctant to practice, and/or scared of being bad, I’ve ended up in a position where I wish I had practiced the clarinet, trumpet, guitar, and French horn more.

Maybe, I should approach work in the way I wish I approached music.

My job may be my main instrument these days.

While doing my job, I’ve given a mess of a performance that happened to be the best I could do at the time. Such performances tend to involve seeing the notes disappear from off the sheet music I’m working off of, becoming unable to hear sounds that I’m making, and going through the motions that I’ve engaged in time and time again while battling feelings of helplessness and fear.

While doing my job, I’ve also given a spectacular performance. Such performances tend to involve the same things as messy performances, with the addition of one moment or many moments of realizing that there are people out in the audience supporting me.

Spectacular performances tend to involve the same things as messy performances, perhaps with the addition of one moment or many moments where I remember words that I want to say, or feelings that I want to express, to someone—or everyone.