"On the Cocky Pianist aka Me"

Serious piano practice has been ongoing for several weeks now, in preparation for the 2-piano, 8-hands rendition of Stars and Stripes Forever scheduled for the 4th of July weekend.  I am, to put it mildly, apprehensive. The last time I played publicly was at a Christmas recital this past December.  The experience was a humbling one, and I was, well, I was humbled. 

Ever since the performance last fall, when I surprised my family and played the piano for them and the ensuing CD recording of those songs, I had been heady.  I was thrilled and excited to have recaptured some of my piano skills after a 30-plus-year hiatus, but had become a bit full of myself in the process, cocky even.  Kathleen, my piano teacher, asked me if I would like to play at the recital.  "Certainly,"  I thought, "I would love to play for an audience.  After all, I am quite the accomplished pianist.  Or at least I used to be."  Oh, how foolish, how arrogant, how cocky.  It's all in the attitude, you know.

Christmas songs were the theme of the recital, and I had a favorite I had been working on.  I arrived in plenty of time at the church where it was being held and found a place to sit.  Nerves have never been an issue for me.  Playing in church from the time I was 8 or 9 years old served as a perfect training ground.  In fact, I don't remember ever being nervous when I played in the public eye.  That is, until this time. 

My palms began getting sweaty, and the longer I waited the worse things became. The program had begun, and I started counting down the number of  students until it was my turn.  As those participating went up to the piano, played their chosen piece of music and then returned to their seats, the nerves set in.  I got nervous.  Really nervous.  It didn't help either that the thought "What AM I doing here?"  kept playing through my mind.  Soon there were only 3 performers left, then 2, then 1, then......man, oh man. 

I took a deep breath, with the thought that I had done this hundreds, perhaps thousands of times and made my way up to the piano and sat down.  Reading glasses are necessary for me to see up close, and I had decided to keep them propped atop my head rather than carry them.  Once I was comfortable with my position at the piano, I began playing.  Before long it occurred to me that I could not see the music.  I had failed to move the glasses to my eyes.  I stopped and announced that I was starting over.  Glasses in place, I felt a bit better.   However, things did not go well at the piano that afternoon.  My fingers refused to function, and I bumbled through Silent Night.  It would probably have been best if it was a silent afternoon.  "I really do know how to play," I wanted to tell the audience, but alas, it did not appear so.  The torture and torment was finally over, and as I walked down from the piano, my eyes met my teacher's, and I remember mouthing "Good grief."  She knew, all too well, what I was talking about.

Cockiness is a particular trait that disgusts me.  It brings with it a flavor of superiority, full of self.  I hadn't realized it was sitting within me, trying to take root and grow.  Being brought to ground zero came quickly and easily, in an afternoon, at a Christmas performance.

Salvation is also a word, a term that has vast implications, interpretations, and meanings for most people, all of them very personal and many times controversial, causing strong reactions and responses.  For me, I simply state that I have been saved from myself, and this is a perfect example of that. 

I just found out that I am going to be playing in front of a much larger audience this weekend than I had anticipated.  I am already a bit nervous.  The good news is that a cocky attitude isn't going in with me this time.  I am grateful to know that I am being kept in line by One who knows me better than I know myself and One who cares.