Musicians: Take heed.

Be joyful you get to do this.

You get to do this. We are fortunate.

This morning, I couldn't sleep because I have a solo performance coming up and my mind wants to convince me that I have never before heard the music that I have, for the past three months, played from memory.

So, I sat at the piano, groggy eyed, and ran through my set, with zero issues, just to get my mind to be quiet, and it worked. Not only do I know the music, I've got jokes.

But *deep sigh * I couldn't go back to bed because now I was up. I made some coffee, and while the coffee was brewing, I noticed it was snowing. So I sat down and played, Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow, which turned into Silent Night, which morphed into Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, and then the coffee was ready.

I had given myself a little holiday concert as the snow fell in the wee hours of the morning as the house filled with the aroma of arabica.

I obviously did not craft the moment. I didn't make the snow fall, I certainly wasn't asking for a sleepless night, and it's a little too early for coffee.

While I was sipping the coffee, though, I realized what I had so casually done, and as a piano instructor I am well aware of how many people would love to be able to do that as casually as I did.

The hours of practice, the classes, the critiques, the hurt feelings, the bad performances, the great performances, the rush of anticipation before the approach to the piano, the shopping for the outfits and testing to make sure it all works, the split pants, broken heels, the forgotten passages in the middle of piece, the improvisations you didn't know were in you that made the audience yell for more--all of that effort allows us to be able to play our instruments at 3 a.m. with one eye open from our whole heart and nearly make yourself cry with all the tenderness in the air. That's what all that training is for--to be able to create at will.

When teachers get exhausted this time of year, when the pressures begin to move forward, it is very difficult to remember why you're putting so much effort into your work.

This is why--so that others can do what we do. You're doing this so that they can feel this too.

So, I know that what I'm about to say is going to be met with some version of, "Do you understand what I have to do today/this week/before the 22nd?"

Yes.

Take some time with your primary instrument when you can, privately, and connect with it. Take a deep breath. Time travel to when you were scrambling for a recital or performance, and then with your instrument you soared. Feel that feeling. Then play something--anything--as a callback to that moment.

We get to do this.

Please be joyfull we get to do this.