I started playing piano when I was five.
At first, I loved it.
I loved my teacher. I loved practicing. I loved getting better and better.
Then came my first performance.
From Love to Terror
My fingers wouldn’t move my brain was a jumble my stomache wanted to hurl and I’d never experienced anything like it in my life.
I was that girl: the one you pity and dread, the one who started over.
And over.
And over.
Who finally fled the stage–no reason to curtsey!–and sat stoically through the rest of the recital until she could run home and cry.
My lessons continued until I was fifteen. Ten years of faithful practice and punch-in-the-gut performances.
I was terrible.
I knew I was terrible because I screwed up at every recital.
At least I drove home feeling like I’d screwed up.
I was sure I’d done bad because I felt so bad.
Felt Bad Doesn’t Mean Done Bad
Two years ago, I started taking solo performing classes. I’ve written and performed six monologues. And after every single one, I drove home feeling the same way.
I felt bad.
But instead of believing I’d done bad because I felt bad, I remembered what my instructors taught me:
feeling “bad” is part of art
It’s what happens when you get on stage and open yourself up to an audience.
In fact, “bad” isn’t even the right word.
I was actually feeling vulnerable.
Vulnerable isn’t Bad
I wonder, now, if I was really as terrible at piano as I’ve remembered all these years.
What if I’d known that feeling “bad”––vulnerable, exposed, drained––after a performance is a perfectly normal part of making art?
What if I wasn’t terrible after all?
What if I was better than I thought?
What if I was (dare I say) good at piano but never knew it because I felt so bad?
What if…
You know that…
- …meal you’re sure you ruined?
- …conflict you keep replaying in your mind, wishing for a do-over?
- …moment at the microphone when you just wanted the ground to open up and swallow you?
What if your feelings aren’t telling you about the end result–-the food, the argument, the performance?
What if your feelings are telling you about the state of your heart after…
- … you gave the best you had.
- … you opened yourself up.
- … you were bravely vulnerable.
Despite how “bad” you may have felt, try asking yourself:
What if I really was better than I thought?
Your Turn
How might it change things for you to realize “I was vulnerable” rather than “I was bad” in art/heart situations?
My husband and I are in the midst of going to our four kids’ parent/teacher conferences this week. I always dread them as talking about my kids progress in class makes me feel quite vulnerable and like their academics and social graces are a direct reflection on me as a mom. I try to remind myself that the kids are individuals and I am their mom, separate from them, but it’s a challenge in the moment. I feel so exposed during these conferences and trying not to be shame-faced and flustered but perhaps I come off somewhat differently than is in my mind.
When we were leaving the conferences for the elementary kids the other day, I told my husband that coming to conferences was for me at the same level as getting a cavity filled at the dentist: necessary but unpleasant. He went on to tell me what a “natural” I am with people and how encouraged the teachers must feel from some of my comments. “I can really see God’s love coming out of you” he said. I was shocked to hear it after how badly I felt on the inside. Maybe you’re right Cheri. Maybe we are all better than we think.
I don’t know. Vulnerable is a bad word in my book because of how the experience makes me feel. I avoid situations where I might have to be “bare” before other eyes. However, the idea that I am not bad is good. Might be worth the uncomfortable feeling to make progress in this area.
i just had to laugh, not at you, but my AWFUL memories of the piano. i hated it, and my parents wouldn’t let me off the hook. SIXTEEN years of piano lessons and i can’t play. oh, wait, i think i can do chopsticks. i was bad at the piano.
when it comes to other things in life, i get your meaning. it’s about having expectations, yours, your parents, society, teachers. the phrase that comes to mind… you can do better than this. that, of course, made me feel bad.
I was there, you were great at piano! I thought this article would have helped when we were growing up.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/salman-khan/the-learning-myth-why-ill_b_5691681.html
I always thought I was a “bad” student (translation stupid and slow”…but several years ago as I was cleaning out my garage I found some old report cards and discovered that I was an “A” – “B” student. I was shocked.