Eclectic Thoughts

If I could play a song for you rather than surmise a post, I would. Which song would I play? Clair Matin by Paul JeanJean. It’s perfectly sweet and French and summarizes exactly how I’m feeling at the moment.

On that note (pun intended), today I assembled my clarinet and went so far as to play it! After nearly two months of silence, the reunion between musician and instrument was long overdue. Yes, I played Clair Matin, and it was as if my very self leapt out of my body and stood directly across from me and gently reminded me of who I am.

Ladies and Gentleman, I’m a performer. There’s no getting around it. Give me an audience and I’ll give you a show. Any day, anytime. I have been performing on various levels throughout my whole life.

The problem is, somewhere along the way, I forgot the difference between acting/performing at the appropriate time and acting/performing all day long, even when it wasn’t necessary. So, a façade was created and before I knew it I was locked into this performing contract that I know I didn’t sign.

I just recently discovered this about myself; that I didn’t know when to perform and when not to perform and suddenly my life came to a screeching halt. I began questioning everything I had known. What is true about me and what is merely the performance? Was I doing that just to maintain a good show or was I doing that because it was genuinely me?

Amidst all the questioning, the performer in me began to shrivel up and slowly die like a neglected flower.

And then my counselor asked me to think about the times in my life when I’ve felt most alive.  And the answer came to me so “matter of factly”: When I’m on the stage. Theatre. Recitals. Opportunities to be in front of people and perform. That is when I feel most alive.

So, I pulled my clarinet out of its case and played. And I was reminded of who I was. Who I am.

I want to explore this passion inside of me. This passion that has turned to embers. And I hope, in time, the embers will turn into a fire.

I want to perform. But more than that, I want to learn to distinguish “real life” from “performance life.” In performance life the show must always go on. And I’ve discovered that that statement doesn’t necessarily apply to real life. Sometimes in real life, the puzzle pieces end up scattered in a pile of mulch and you are forced to sort through them and determine which pieces fit your puzzle and which pieces must to be thrown out.

So that’s where I’m at right now. Sorting my puzzle pieces. Drinking poorly made African Tea on a beautiful fall day. Remembering who I was. Wondering who I will be. And feeling thankful.