Blazing My Own Trail
Immediately when I write "Blazing My Own Trail" as a title for this post, I am mindful that all of us blaze our own trail. Everyone I know has taken what was given and either pursued opportunities available or eschewed them for something entirely different. Nonetheless, they blazed their own trail.When I write "Blazing My Own Trail," however, I am coming from the point of view of a young man, and now fully grown man approaching 40, who went through a long period of departure. Departure from the cult-like beliefs of my parents. And to understand this fully, one probably needs to consider people who escape the pockets of secret cults sprinkled around the U.S., like those found in Utah, New Mexico, Arizona, and Southwestern Colorado.
My life has been about departure. Now it is finally about return. I'm sure my father would like that return to include a prodigal son type of return to god, faith, and conviction of things not seen.
But for me, return is a bit more like pulling a U-turn at an intersection. Seven short, but seemingly long years away from music, and I am finally returning.
As I return to teaching piano and coaching voice, I have begun pulling dusty books from my personal library. Perhaps to center myself. Perhaps to reconnect more fully. Perhaps just to refamiliarize myself to the world of music with a new set of experiences to draw from.
The book I am re-reading now is "The Well-Tempered Keyboard Teacher." Well-tempered here refers to a set of preludes and fugues written in all 24 major and minor keys by Johann Sebastian Bach in 1722. Its purpose, Bach stated, was "for the profit and use of musical youth desirous of learning, and especially for the pastime of those already skilled in this study." The current version contains 24 additional works later written and which now comprise the generally regarded volume. I was taught that its main purpose, like "Hanon in 60 Exercises" or the exercises of Czerny, was to ensure facility, technique, and dexterity across all keys. Indeed, at one point I could claim the same, as I devoured everything that came across my piano, from solo work to accompanying.
I can't say that I appreciated the book, "The Well-Tempered Keyboard Teacher," based on this play on words when I was in college. But, indeed, seeing things through newly opened, more broadly experienced eyes has been an encouragement to me. That this is the journey I needed to take. That the last seven years have not been lost or a waste of time.
This excerpt from the book summarizes a great deal for me:
"For many pianists, becoming a teacher is a decision made more by necessity than by true ambition. Often one begins to teach because one has already come so far and has no great desire to pursue a different professional career. Although this seeming backing into place is the route traveled by many pianists in the process of becoming teachers, a large number of them discover a new part of themselves when they begin to teach." -- The Well-Tempered Keyboard Teacher
A difference for me would be that I loved teaching from age 16, when I began teaching beginning students, not knowing that I "shouldn't." But there is buried another idea here that liberates me:
- "Backing into place" perfectly describes how I arrived at teaching, and how I felt after so many years of study. It is why I tentatively explored and soon immersed myself in an entirely new career track upon moving to New York. (How that happened, I'll never fully understand.) It better illustrates my own thinking; that thinking having been "I felt like I needed to see if I could do something else." I always wondered if music was the only thing I could do.
- Extrapolating a bit, I submit that studying music, or karate, or any other art form is unlike studying business or biology. Many of us in the arts begin in grade school to study intensely so that by the time we reach college, much of who we are has become formed in our art. Whereas a business major might simply have checked a box when he first began his college career. So it's no surprise to me that I felt in 2000 that I had already lived a full life (25 years) in the arts. I believe now that it was a misguided belief, but without counsel or a mentor with the right perspective, I can't regret it. I can't regret the experience I've gained, and expect to embrace who I am and have become as being richer than it would have been if I'd stayed on my track.
I remind myself that I had to break free of my father's "greenhouse" simply to attend college. At 25, it was my form of rebellion and personal investment. (Who, after all, goes to college as a form of rebellion?) So this journey has been mine alone in many ways. And I find a bit of comfort in that.
All of this rambling is as illuminating, supporting, and encouraging as it is superfluous. I'm just a bit of matter hobbling around with other bits of matter, all trying to eek out a living on this spec of a planet in the middle of a spec of a universe in the midst of god knows how many other universes. So while I recess into my own head to figure out the meaning of my life, the rest goes on. Shaking the head and saying, "You're not the only thing on earth that matters. Get a grip."
But this is my life. This is me claiming my life. Because nobody else is handing it to me, I have to claim it to keep my sanity.
My life is music, and I'm on my journey back home.
posted by Jay @ 10:00 AM
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