Thankfulness

Surprise! I have another wedding sneak peek for you today. This was our first moment as "Mr. and Mrs. Danyew" (a great iPhone capture - thanks, Cindy!) It's hard for me to believe that that picture was taken almost three weeks ago! Where has the time gone?

Yesterday, I admired the bold orange and red foliage on my way to teach in Fitchburg. Today, it's snowing (with an inch on the ground!) We're nearing one of my favorite holidays, you know. Of course, it comes wrapped up with both of our birthdays, Christmas, and New Year's all packaged into one busy holiday season. It's that time of the year when people talk about thankfulness and giving. "Take time to be thankful," they say. Take time to be thankful? What time?! There are thank you notes to write, emails to send, quizzes to grade, music to practice, phone calls to return, and services to be planned. Part of me says, "I'll take the time to count my blessings once I get through Christmas." This year, I'm learning that like grace, thankfulness is a way of life.

It shouldn't be something we just "do" because it's that time of the year. There's no prescribed method for "giving thanks" or "counting your blessings." For some, it might be a morning or evening prayer of gratitude. For others a passing, "Thank you," to someone for holding the door into the post office. For others still, it might be the act of listing their everyday blessings. For me, it's taking a moment to be still in the midst of very busy schedule, be peaceful in the midst of conflict, and be grateful.

I am grateful for my husband and our new life together.

I am grateful I was able to witness the first snowfall of the year this afternoon.

I am grateful for an energetic group of children who love to sing in choir.

I am grateful for all of our friends and family who came together to celebrate with us a few weeks ago.

I am grateful for the opportunity to witness joy on people's faces.

I am grateful for quiet evenings at home after long, busy days.

I am grateful for opportunities to teach and learn.

(And just because of the week I've had) I am grateful for the moments that get me fired up because I know God is shaping and molding me into His likeness.

I am grateful for the gift of new mercies each morning ("great is Thy faithfulness...").

I am grateful for moments of spontaneity and sheer bliss (as captured in the photo above).

I am grateful for love and acceptance and compassion.

I am grateful for grace, each and every day.

----------------

Will you join me in committing to live a life of gratefulness?

Cracked Wide Open

Do you know those times when you feel like your head is in a million places? 

You're so busy trying to keep all 10 plates spinning that you're not really 100% present and that responsibility, that weight feels like the weight of the world upon your shoulders.

Can you relate? If so, I have a story for you.

---

We had a busy weekend.

I spent six hours in the car on Saturday (dropping Steve off for a weekend away, picking up my dress in CT, and running a few last-minute wedding errands: who knew chalkboards were so hard to find?). 

The weight of Sunday morning began to set in. 

I stocked my night table with a box of tissues and cough drops (battling a cold since the middle of last week) and bought an extra alarm clock, just to be safe.  Good thing I thought to take it out of the box before going to bed — another trip out to buy AAA batteries.

Sunday morning, 6:45 a.m., neither alarm sounded.  Thankfully, my night was restless and I was awake anyway. 

I dressed for the foggy, cool morning, grabbed a coke, and ran out the door at 7:45 a.m. 

To-do:

• run-through music

• pick up chairs in Choir Room

• make a seating chart for the children's choir

• rehearse

At 8:45 a.m., I had four of the twelve children I was expecting to sing. 

At 9:00 a.m., I had half of the adult choir I expected. 

We started rehearsing nonetheless.  A few more faces joined the group and panic set in as they realized Steve (their unofficial "leader") was not there.  After a 60-second counseling session ("really, y'all will be just fine"), they were on their way.

I took my seat at the piano and waited for the announcements. 

Are the choir members leaving enough room for latecomers?  Are they being quiet? 

Lifting my hands to the keyboard for the prelude, I saw the pastor stand up and make his way to the center.  I scrambled to change books when I realized he was skipping ahead.  No worries, crisis averted. 

And so we proceeded:

Gathering Song
Call to Worship
Opening Hymn: four verses, melody on the swell manual for verse 3. It's just one wrong note — let it go.
Passing of the Peace: old language in the bulletin — remember to fix that in staff meeting. Don't slip running down to the piano!
Scripture readings
Time with the Children: will that children's choir member remember that we're singing today since he missed the rehearsal?
Combined anthem (three choirs): it's worth the split-second pause to make sure the page is turned Meditation: why is my contact so blurry? Will I have to play the rest of the service with one eye closed?
Middle Hymn: three verses, adjust melody second time through based on how the congregation is singing it Joys/Concerns: a moment of panic when all eyes turn to me with the announcement of our wedding next weekend
Lord's Prayer (sung)
Offertory
Doxology
Offertory Prayer: bolt to organ for Closing Hymn — no time to hesitate, play introduction, hear whispers, see people sit down, read the word, "Communion!" on choir members' lips.  (This prayer is new in the communion service and for over a year it's been my cue to run to the organ.  So, I heard the prayer, and I ran to the organ.  Completely blind once I’m back there, I completely skipped the communion portion of the service.) Skulk back down to the piano. Bread, music (wait for the pastor), cup, music (wait for the pastor), prayer: dash to the organ
Closing Hymn: four verses, make sure choir leaves on verse 2 after the deacons have extinguished the candles Benediction: dash to the piano
Benediction Response: who is talking in the back of the church?
Postlude

Cracked. wide. open. 

Do you know how that feels?  Do you know how hard it is to not let yourself fall apart but instead, to pick up your broken self and keep going?  I suddenly felt much sicker than I really was.  Foggy lightheadedness felt like it could just consume me.  But I had to keep going. 

It's not that I expect perfection — I know things can never be perfect.  I strive to be invisible in worship, to be an instrument, per se.  I want the music to speak for itself and I don't want to do anything that detracts from that.

Yesterday, as hard as it was to come out from behind the organ to play the rest of the service — broken and embarrassed, I managed.  I struggled with showing grace to myself.  It's hard for me to just accept such a public moment of fault as "okay." 

I took a risk. 

I didn't hesitate with the hymn introduction — I came right in, boldly and confidently.  This is one small consequence of that level of risk-taking.  Is it worth it?  Is it better to take the plunge and play your heart out at the wrong time or hesitate, play with half of yourself, and perhaps avoid such public errors?

I'd rather be known as someone who brings their whole heart into what they do; someone who takes those risks and is willing to make those public mistakes; someone who can be cracked. wide. open. and still, keep going. 

Grace is part of the process.

Keeping Up

We're at the 19-day marker, y'all.

It sounds a little better right now to say "a little less than three weeks" — seems like that gives us more time to get everything in order for the BIG DAY. 

• We have collections of pewter dishes, ribbons, wine bottles, and Christmas decorations (from the Christmas Choir Kick-Off this weekend) lining our entryway. 

• I have about eight pieces of clothing hanging on my closet door (literally since the first week of August) to bring to the dry cleaner. 

• I am going to try on my dress this weekend for the first time since April. 

The pace of life is fast right now... and by fast I mean flying.

This week, that meant typing up grant applications for the WCMW while driving to VT for wedding errands, emailing schedules to the wedding vendors while sitting at the laundromat, checking emails on my Blackberry in between choir rehearsals, and writing out the seating chart for the rehearsal dinner on scratch paper in the car. 

Oh, and I downed my coffee/hot chocolate this morning in three minutes flat before running out the door to get ready for church.

The question, "Am I keeping up with everything?" is one that I ask myself at least five times a day. Can you relate?

Albert Einstein has some pretty great words of advice for people like us: "Life is like riding a bicycle: In order to keep your balance, you must keep moving." 

I think balance is a key word here. 

Forward motion is important, but it doesn't drive everything.  In order to get everything done that needs to be done, I need balance in my life.

For me, balance means:

• taking a breather from emails on the weekends (at least from my school account)

• spending less time on my laptop/Blackberry on the weekends in general

• taking time to cook dinner with Steve on weekend nights (last night, we made apple- and bacon-stuffed pork chops with a maple glaze)

• not lingering at church after the service — cleaning up the Choir Room can wait until Monday evening

• making time to do something on the weekend that I wouldn't normally do during the week (for instance, yesterday, I made fresh guacamole... up until the point when I sliced my finger open with our brand new tomato knife.  Steve had to take over on this one.)

• spending a few minutes at the end of each day writing down everything I want to remember in the morning

• taking a short walk to the Post Office after lunch (fresh air + exercise + no Blackberry = mental breather)

• sending more emails from my Blackberry during the day (in between things) rather than waiting until I am at my computer again

How do you keep up?  How do you achieve balance in everyday work?

It's One of Those Days...

It's one of those days.  My feet hit the ground running this morning. Welcome to the fall semester, right?!

Inboxes (yes, three of them) full of unanswered emails from the weekend, staff meeting this morning, errands to run, studio lessons this afternoon, meetings to schedule, etc.  And then there are the unexpected things that come up... a reporter calling to interview me about the cultural council grant we received for the workshop this year, booking a hair salon for the wedding party, responding to student inquiries, a 2-and-a-half hour staff meeting, and dealing with a Blackberry that is constantly blinking for attention.  Grace, not perfection, my friends.  I likely will not cross everything off my to-do list today.  I will probably not be able to make all the phone calls I need to make before 5 p.m.  I will, however strive to be the best that I can be in accomplishing as much as I am able.  One thing at a time, one foot in front of the other.

Image Credit: personal

Moments

It was 9 p.m. on a weeknight.

I got home late from teaching. Steve had vegetable pizzas in the oven for dinner. He washed the dishes, I dried and put them away (it's our system). We sat in the breakfast nook catching up on the day and making mental checklists for the evening (our dining room table is currently covered in notebooks, paper folders, and stacks of documents).

We lingered in the kitchen after dinner, discussing a very exciting idea for our WCMW special event and documenting the experience for posterity's sake.

It's moments like this — the ordinary ones — that matter the most sometimes.

You know the type of "ordinary" that I'm talking about: Those times when my hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail and I'm walking around the kitchen barefoot; when we eat a quick, informal supper instead of a sit-down, classical music-type of meal; when we laugh about the silly ways I combine words when I try to talk in a hurry.

Treasure these moments.

Making Opportunities Happen

I’ve often been advised to “make the most of opportunities” – I’m sure you’ve been there, too.  Sometimes an opportunity presents itself out of nowhere – maybe it’s an extra time commitment, maybe it’s out of your comfort zone and just when you’ve convinced yourself to pass it by, suddenly the opposing voice in your head says, “Wouldn’t this be a great experience?”  In my case, the opposing voice usually wins.

I recently had a conversation with my dad about this very thing.  In fact, he even quoted my opening statement.  As we continued our conversation, we talked about the importance of making opportunities happen.  It’s great when opportunities just pop up in front of you (Hi!  I’m Mr. Opportunity!) but let’s face it – sometimes the opportunities just aren’t there.  The economy struggles, organizations lose funding, no one is hiring.  Have you experienced this?  How do you respond?

It starts with a problem.  Problems are everywhere!  Pick one and figure out how you can solve it with your given skillset.

Problem: I moved to a town with no community music programs. Solution: open a piano studio (I have nine students after four months) and start two children’s choirs (I have fourteen enrolled this year).  I had to think beyond my comfort zone (i.e. teaching in an established organization where marketing and administration is taken care of by someone else) but as a result of thinking entrepreneurially, I now have the flexibility to set my own schedule and create my own teaching environment.

Problem: there are no opportunities for amateur musicians to come together to play or listen to chamber music in town. Solution: start a summer chamber music workshop.  I give you the Westminster Chamber Music Workshop – a week-long series of coachings, rehearsals, and special events for amateur players and choral singers in the area to come together to network, learn, and make music.  Special events each night will feature guest artists in performance and lecture – free and open to the public!

It’s not always about making the most of opportunities… sometimes it’s just about making the opportunities happen.

Snow Day

"I want a snowfall kind of love
The kind of love that quiets the world
I want a snowfall kind of love
'Cause I'm a snowfall kind of girl."

-Ingrid Michaelson

It's the first snow day of the season and I am a happily-snowed-in girl at the moment. This is the perfect weather for writing and a good playlist. See what I'm listening to at the moment.

We have at least 18" on the ground now with more coming down each hour. Of course, snow bunny that I am, Steve and I were up and dressed by 8 a.m. We successfully dug the car out of the parking lot and made it up the mountain. Lifts were running when we pulled up at 8:20 a.m. or so and we eagerly changed into our boots, starting our first run by 8:35 a.m. Conditions were great and with the amount of snow still coming down, it was almost like cutting new tracks for the first few runs.

Today, I learned how to ski in heavy powder (the hard way). I confidently hopped off the lift on the third or fourth run and headed towards the black diamond straight from the top of the mountain. About halfway down, I hit a pile of powder and my skis just stopped. I, of course, tumbled at this point. Two more times on the same run, I found myself flat (think belly flop) with my skis bent over my head (case in point why I wear a helmet!) 

What is wrong with me today? I haven't fallen in over a year! 

My confidence was shattered and I began skiing with fear (i.e. not fully shifting weight, skis crossing, losing balance). We finally made it to the bottom.

On the lift again, I heard Steve say the words I was dreading, "I think we'll take that trail again." Obviously, I am not comfortable skiing in heavy powder yet, let alone on a black diamond - what are you doing to me! By the time we got to the top, I had given myself enough of a pep talk to at least start down the trail. What a striking similarity to performance:

I've performed this piece before and did everything right - no memory slips, complete control, focus, artistry. Suddenly, a new environment and the whole thing falls apart. Memory slip. Finger slip. Tempo beyond control. Fear.

Well, friends, I hate to admit it, but I fell on the second time down that trail, too. And the third. But with each frustrating misstep and moment of unbalance, I felt more focused and more determined to learn from my mistakes. With each uninspiring turn, what can I improve? How can I change my approach the next time? By the end of the morning, despite falls and fear, I felt a new sense of mastery. Today, I learned to hunker down and not let the heavy stuff hold me back.

Happy snow day, y'all!

Spinning Plates

There’s a certain image associated with the great expression, “spinning plates.”  I often picture a wobbly cartoon character attempting to balance multiple spinning items on every body part until, with the climax of the classical music accompaniment, they all come crashing down on top of him.  Hopefully, that’s not how my life will unfold in the next few weeks.

It’s a great feeling to have lots going on, especially when they are all related to music.  In the next month, I will have everything from recording sessions and committee meetings to conference calls and grant applications; advisory board meetings and course preparation for the spring to choir planning and website development.  I love it!  I feel as if I am truly living every musician’s dream: to live, eat, and breathe music.  It’s more and more apparent to me that to survive in today’s music market, you must be diversified or skilled in different areas of the field.  It’s amazing how many opportunities are out there – I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.  As an example of this fact, here are few of my “spinning plates:”

• Leading a church music ministry
• Maintaining a private piano studio
• Preparing papers for journal submission
• Coordinating the Instrumental Lesson Program at FSU
• Teaching two sections of Class Piano at FSU
• Maintaining a private piano studio at FSU
• Creating a chamber music workshop for amateur musicians
• Developing a website for high school musicians and their parents
• Applying for grants
• Preparing multiple collaborative recital programs

Sometimes, this list seems a little out of control; but what a blessing it is to have so many ways in which to share music.  This week, I’m thankful for vision, I’m thankful for opportunities, and I’m thankful for music.

Image Credit: Lauren Chester

Saudades Do Brasil

Spring weather, vivid colors, hospitality, time to explore, and best of all: moments where music overcame language barriers.

My time in São Paulo, Brazil was my first experience with international travel and as such, I have many vivid memories.  I traveled that week with a group of friends from school.  The purpose of our trip: to share music and ministry at a small United Methodist Church outside of the city.  With the aid of two translators, we met and conversed over large family-style meals, learned the songs the children sing in the streets, and participated in several Portuguese worship services.

Other highlights of the trip include sightseeing in São Paulo (including a trip to the observation deck of the tallest building in the city) and visiting the large, indoor farmer’s market.

In Brazil, music is an integral part of the culture - it is a part of everyday events.  In the cool night following a delicious supper, an impromptu dance/singing circle made up of children and adults alike formed out of an innocent game of “football.”  The combination of complex rhythm (compared to our traditional 4/4 in America) and a cappella harmony was incredible – moments I wish I had captured in a form other than memory.

The Eastman Era

A phrase commonly spoken by many Eastman alumni, my own “Eastman Era” is coming to an end.  Of course, a threshold like this brings moments of reflection and thoughts of “where did the time go?” mixed with anticipation of what is to come and excitement of beginning a new adventure. It was August of 2008 when I first arrived in Rochester following a long move from Georgia.  Everything was new and exciting… though, like most things, I had to get through a period of adjustment before I felt like I really fit into life in the city and life at Eastman.  From the very first semester, I had wonderful teachers who guided and encouraged me to be the best that I could be.  Settling was never an option.  Through classes, coachings, rehearsals, and performances, I met great colleagues and learned much about the art of music.

When overwhelmed by my first semester of work and expectations, time felt like it was standing still.  Now, it’s a blur.  Looking back always makes time feel shorter somehow.  I have grown much in my recognition of who I am as an artist and a musician and how I can contribute to the field.  I have learned how to ask questions, teach myself, work hard, and achieve my goals.  I credit this to the support of my professors – in particular, my primary teacher, Dr. Jean Barr – and those who have been a part of my Eastman experience.  This is a time of my life that I will never forget.