It's the end of November and I have so much to be grateful for. So consider this both an update and a list of all of the many things I have been thankful for this month.
I am thankful...
... that talking to kids about music is not nearly as scary as I thought it would be. First, I spent an hour talking about music and singing and dancing and conducting with the Girl Scouts. Then, I started working with a kids choir for the church. We've got a good group of about 15 kids who, so far, are very enthusiastic and humor me when I quiz them on the lyrics or cup my hand to my ear like I can't hear them. A couple of them even came back for the second rehearsal!
... for Stevie Wonder bringing his tour within driving distance -- and for Nancy and Deidre who agreed to a ridiculous down-and-back in one night schedule so I could show up for church on Sunday morning. I have such a hard time describing my overwhelming joy in attending this concert. Incredible is not nearly a strong enough word. For close to 3.5 hours, he and his musicians entertained in a way that surpassed all of my expectations. I took a few short videos of all of my favorite songs just to remind me of what it was like to be there, in that moment. I also bought a t-shirt. And a mug. I'm serious when I say it's the single greatest live event I've ever attended.
... for opportunities to perform myself this holiday season. It's a nice break from music that I have to select or prepare or conduct or organize. I'll have concerts in the coming weeks with the Knoxville Chamber Chorale (Dec. 4 & 11), Messiah Singalong (Dec. 6 & 7), and Knoxville Choral Society (Dec. 19-21).
... that I got the opportunity to attend several workshops and a reading session with Dan Forrest. It's a really enlightening experience to hear a composer discuss his pieces and his process. To perform his works with a 200-voice choir, orchestra and the composer on piano - now that's just amazing. Add to the weekend a couple of meals with fellow KCS folks and you've got something really special.
... for the physical strength to keep my body moving despite my sometimes grueling schedule. I ran my first 10K this week and was really proud of the accomplishment. I plan to race again in the Spring, but for now my goal is to keep up regular exercise to maintain this level of energy.
... for finally figuring out the first steps in my music education. I decided to start at the local community college (Pellissippi) to pick up basic music education (ear training, music theory) before moving on to another local program to finish the bachelors degree. I feel like this gives me the best flexibility for now - close to home, lots of class times to choose from, and less expensive.
... for a "day job" that is incredibly supportive of this new journey. I have been showered with recognition of my one-year service anniversary with Humana and my boss encourages me to fulfill my dreams and passions. I've been so lucky to keep my salaried job while exploring this new music ministry career.
... for a family that is loving, supportive, and -best of all- independent. I have kids who take responsibility for their own breakfast in the morning, their homework in the afternoon, and their bedtime rituals in the evening. I have a daughter who can entertain herself at the church while I'm working and a son who is old enough to stay home and get his work done. I have an endlessly patient husband who has doubled the nights each week that he has to take care of the kids because of the new schedule. We went three solid weeks before I could squeeze in a trip to the grocery store and they've been real troopers about it. (I promise, we've gone grocery shopping now!)
... that, in this time of gratitude and holiday, I was able to take Thursday and Friday off of work from both of my jobs to concentrate on my family. I didn't even answer an email for two days. I took time to remember that, in the midst of pursuing my calling, I can't forget my priorities. I am rooted in the love of my husband, my kids, and my parents.
And, as I said at the dinner table on Thanksgiving...
... that I finally know what I want to be when I grow up.
Saturday, November 29, 2014
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
October 2014
I feel like I've lived a lifetime in the month since my last post. It's been a whirlwind of activity with emotional extremes so powerful that I'm just now able to sit and process all that has happened. I'll try to capture the highlights here, but there's just so much more to say than I can reasonably expect people to read.
A month ago, on a Tuesday evening, four ORUUC music leaders were pulled into a room for an emergency meeting. We were told that our Music Director (and my mentor - see earlier blog posts) had been fired and that we were now tasked with carrying out the music program for the near future. We started by processing the overwhelming emotions that come with such an unexpected loss, then moved into practical decision-making about upcoming music events and services.
It was Tuesday. Our service that Sunday would be the first one in our new location. The choir was scheduled to sing to mark the occasion. The newly formed "Music Team" made our first decision - to let the choir decide whether they still wanted to sing on the opening Sunday -- and if they decided to sing, I would direct them. So, as I acknowledged my hurt, anger, and fear, I stood in the mirror figuring out how to conduct pieces for Sunday, in case the choir wanted to sing. On Wednesday night, the choir heard the news of Wendel's departure. Then, they rose to the deeper purpose of serving our congregation through song. And there I stood, with less than 24 hours to practice and deal with my own emotions, leading my first choir rehearsal.
My emotional state that first week can best be described as a "roller coaster". On one hand, I was experiencing the significant loss of my friend and mentor. As part of the terms of his dismissal, congregation members had been asked not to reach out to Wendel for two years, So, the person who I had been leaning on most for support, the person who sparked this musical passion inside me, the person who I consider a significant catalyst to my calling... was just gone. And that was overwhelmingly painful. On the other hand, I felt a deep sense of responsibility to make sure that ORUUC's music program continued to serve our congregation with excellent and eclectic music. I renewed my determination to live out my calling by supporting our church community through musical leadership.
Before I knew it, I was enveloped by love and support from so many people. The choir, who from the beginning has cheered me on through my less-than-perfect conducting patterns. The music team, who put their trust in me to lead the choir and take charge of many aspects of the music program. My friends near and far, who have listened to me vent as well as celebrate. My newest Music Director mentors, who seemed to come out from everywhere when I needed an ear. My family, who have supported my seemingly endless hours of time at church. Musicians and members at ORUUC, who offer their assistance and praise in so many ways. It was being held in this light that carried me through such a difficult first few weeks.
Reflecting back, I take great pride in all our music program has been able to accomplish in this past month...
We opened a new building, moving music files and equipment, serenading a parade of members walking from our old location to our new one, and - of course - providing music for our opening Sunday.
Followed quickly by our "Week of Music" events - four nights of music leading up to our building dedication. So many ORUUC musicians participated in this celebration -- and we had great attendance from our congregation and the wider community. Our choir and house band really stepped it up, performing Thursday evening as well as both Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon on the day of our building dedication. It was a very busy week for all of us. Again, our musicians rose to their call to lend their talents in service to the congregation and community.
Surviving those first few weeks, through the building dedication on October 19th, was the Music Team's initial goal on that first night we met. So, to wake up on October 20th was a feeling of accomplishment. But, it's far from over. After all, every Sunday there is another service.
For now, I am honored to be the Temporary Music Director for ORUUC, working with the Music Team to ensure our music program successfully supports the spiritual growth of our congregation. Through December 31st, I am living out my calling. It is every bit as challenging and every bit as rewarding as I suspected it would be.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
2 for 1 Special - Part 2: Living the Dream
This past Sunday, through the remnants of my cold (see Part 1), I got the first taste of living my dream. I directed the choir in a short hymn called "The Great Community". My hands moved, I smiled, the choir sang, the congregation listened... It all happened. <Insert sigh of happiness>
It was an incredible day for my directing debut! This was the last Sunday that we held services in our current location. I'm looking forward to conducting the piece again next Sunday as we open our new building.
It was an incredible day for my directing debut! This was the last Sunday that we held services in our current location. I'm looking forward to conducting the piece again next Sunday as we open our new building.
2 for 1 Special - Part 1: Ms. Dependable
Just about anyone who knows me will gladly tell you: I'm Ms. Dependable. If you need someone to show up, someone to get it done, someone to come prepared - you've come to the right place. It's part of my identity, my core.
So, imagine what happened this week when I caught a cold and couldn't follow through on a gig with my friends - a gig that we've been rehearsing for months. A gig that ended up being postponed. I felt horrible. And, it was a decision that I couldn't even make myself. I had to basically be told to stop trying and start resting! What a foreign concept.
When I tried to explain to my 8-year-old this situation - someone else canceling our gig because I was sick, she said, "That's so nice." Which is when I realized - sometimes friends take care of you, even when you refuse to be helped.
I have been pushing myself lately - physically, mentally, and emotionally. I needed some down time and my body tried really hard to tell me that. I wouldn't listen. But my friends, they listened. And, kicking and screaming, I went to bed -- thinking there was NO WAY I could possibly fall asleep. After all, I'm not sick...
Zzzzzzzz....
I'm still fighting off the end of the cold, but I had several nights and one full day where I've done nothing but sleep. It's been marvelous and rejuvenating. I think I'll do it again some time. :)
So, imagine what happened this week when I caught a cold and couldn't follow through on a gig with my friends - a gig that we've been rehearsing for months. A gig that ended up being postponed. I felt horrible. And, it was a decision that I couldn't even make myself. I had to basically be told to stop trying and start resting! What a foreign concept.
When I tried to explain to my 8-year-old this situation - someone else canceling our gig because I was sick, she said, "That's so nice." Which is when I realized - sometimes friends take care of you, even when you refuse to be helped.
I have been pushing myself lately - physically, mentally, and emotionally. I needed some down time and my body tried really hard to tell me that. I wouldn't listen. But my friends, they listened. And, kicking and screaming, I went to bed -- thinking there was NO WAY I could possibly fall asleep. After all, I'm not sick...
Zzzzzzzz....
I'm still fighting off the end of the cold, but I had several nights and one full day where I've done nothing but sleep. It's been marvelous and rejuvenating. I think I'll do it again some time. :)
Sunday, September 21, 2014
An Emotional Day
Today... was an emotional day. As in, real tears and stuff. Stuff that I am not used to, but slowly progressing toward becoming more open with.
Nancy Mathias and I led service this morning. We shared our stories about our experience to UUMN this summer. We shared our life-changing moments. For weeks, we've been preparing - selecting the music, rehearsing with the band, picking just the perfect words to open the service, and writing our testimonials. It's a lot of work to plan a service, but being so emotionally vested in it made us work that much harder. We wanted to share an experience, not just a story. And from the feedback we received, I think we achieved that.
But it meant sharing this story - my story of my journey toward becoming a UU Music Director - aloud. And that was really emotional for me. It's much easier to type my story here in the blog, where I can take a moment to breathe or shed a tear and no one sees it. In front of our congregation, there's nowhere to hide. It's opening myself to be vulnerable in a whole new way. It was both challenging and rewarding. Thank you to everyone who shared a comment with me after the service. I treasure every word.
As if that weren't enough excitement for one day, our congregation ordained a new minister today, too! She has been the Director of Faith Formation for many years and followed her calling to ministry. I have to admit, I spent most of her ordination service crying because Tandy has had such a huge influence on my family. It starts with the story I often tell about Tandy rescuing me at our first church retreat when our undiagnosed Aspie son had a melt down in the middle of the dinner line. We were so embarrassed and ran off to our bunkhouse instead of eating dinner. Next thing we know, Tandy is at the bunkhouse door with bread and butter, encouraging us to eat and calm down before we talk over what happened. It was one of the first moments that I felt supported and connected in our church community.
Tandy went on to support our family in so many ways as we struggled with our son... In RE classes, she worked to provide him with 1:1 mentor volunteers so that he could attend class without burdening the teachers. And she provided classes on Love & Logic parenting, so we could be better equipped as parents.
Tandy also nurtured my spiritual growth through her role in our Celebration service. It was my first experience in a contemporary, participatory worship format and Tandy made it accessible and welcoming. It's a feeling I try to pass on to others through my role as a leader in the SPIRIT faith formation group.
There are so many other wonderful things I could mention about Tandy, but for now I'll just say that she's been incredibly inspiring to me. And I was so proud to join our congregation in ordaining her today.
And there you have it. Another day in and out of tears, celebrating my personal calling and the calling of those who mean so much to me. Maybe one day soon it won't be so foreign for me to shed tears of joy, to be so powerfully moved that I can't help but cry.
For tonight, though, I'm emotionally exhausted. Overjoyed, but spent.
Nancy Mathias and I led service this morning. We shared our stories about our experience to UUMN this summer. We shared our life-changing moments. For weeks, we've been preparing - selecting the music, rehearsing with the band, picking just the perfect words to open the service, and writing our testimonials. It's a lot of work to plan a service, but being so emotionally vested in it made us work that much harder. We wanted to share an experience, not just a story. And from the feedback we received, I think we achieved that.
But it meant sharing this story - my story of my journey toward becoming a UU Music Director - aloud. And that was really emotional for me. It's much easier to type my story here in the blog, where I can take a moment to breathe or shed a tear and no one sees it. In front of our congregation, there's nowhere to hide. It's opening myself to be vulnerable in a whole new way. It was both challenging and rewarding. Thank you to everyone who shared a comment with me after the service. I treasure every word.
As if that weren't enough excitement for one day, our congregation ordained a new minister today, too! She has been the Director of Faith Formation for many years and followed her calling to ministry. I have to admit, I spent most of her ordination service crying because Tandy has had such a huge influence on my family. It starts with the story I often tell about Tandy rescuing me at our first church retreat when our undiagnosed Aspie son had a melt down in the middle of the dinner line. We were so embarrassed and ran off to our bunkhouse instead of eating dinner. Next thing we know, Tandy is at the bunkhouse door with bread and butter, encouraging us to eat and calm down before we talk over what happened. It was one of the first moments that I felt supported and connected in our church community.
Tandy went on to support our family in so many ways as we struggled with our son... In RE classes, she worked to provide him with 1:1 mentor volunteers so that he could attend class without burdening the teachers. And she provided classes on Love & Logic parenting, so we could be better equipped as parents.
Tandy also nurtured my spiritual growth through her role in our Celebration service. It was my first experience in a contemporary, participatory worship format and Tandy made it accessible and welcoming. It's a feeling I try to pass on to others through my role as a leader in the SPIRIT faith formation group.
There are so many other wonderful things I could mention about Tandy, but for now I'll just say that she's been incredibly inspiring to me. And I was so proud to join our congregation in ordaining her today.
And there you have it. Another day in and out of tears, celebrating my personal calling and the calling of those who mean so much to me. Maybe one day soon it won't be so foreign for me to shed tears of joy, to be so powerfully moved that I can't help but cry.
For tonight, though, I'm emotionally exhausted. Overjoyed, but spent.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Music Surrounds Me
Sometimes, I forget I have a day job.
You know, the one that pays me to develop corporate training. The one that pays the bills and is financing this whole UU Music Director journey.
But it's really easy to forget when music surrounds me. Take this past week for example.
Tuesday, I spent time with Nancy Mathias selecting music for an upcoming service at ORUUC. (Nancy and I will be sharing our stories from the UUMN conference on 9/21 - join us!) From there, I went to Westside UU Church to crash their choir rehearsal in an effort to understand the variety in choir sizes and demographics. They welcomed me with open arms and I think I'll keep coming back.
Wednesday, I rehearsed with the ORUUC choir and band. I led warm ups and rehearsed the choir on the piece I'll be conducting on 9/28. The band is preparing to help Nancy and I with our service on 9/21 as well as a local community event (Taste of Oak Ridge) on 9/20.
Thursday, I went for an audition for the Knoxville Chamber Chorale, the small ensemble of the Knoxville Choral Society. Immediately afterward, I headed to a rehearsal for the Vocal Big Band, a vocal jazz ensemble led by Wendel Werner. We have a concert on 9/12 at the Square Room.
Friday, I met with one of my mentors, Nancy Starr. We talked about preparing to apply for undergraduate music degree programs, music infrastructure (what to keep track of and how to keep track of it), and a bit of conducting.
Saturday, I met with my other mentor, Wendel. We discussed the contrast of ORUUCs choir with Westside's - like how to address different needs by altering the rehearsal style. We also talked about music degree programs in terms of who to talk to and how each program has a unique culture. My mentor meeting was followed by a rehearsal with Wendel and Dave Dunkirk for a show we're doing at Remedy Coffee on 9/27. The rehearsal was followed by another meeting with Wendel and Nancy Mathias, where we caught up on all things ORUUC Music to make sure we have all the logistics and volunteers coordinated for upcoming events.
Today, I staffed the Music and SPIRIT booths in the ORUUC Activities Fair. We got a couple new names for the choir, which is very exciting! (Come sing with us!) I spent the afternoon in another Vocal Big Band rehearsal. Then I came home to rehearse for another audition tomorrow for the Chorale as well as music for leading Westside's rehearsal on Tuesday night.
Tomorrow it starts all over again. I have a music rehearsal or performance every day from now until Sept. 24, with the notable exception of Sept 19, when I'll enjoy Namoli Brennet singing at ORUUC instead. (Tickets are still available at oruuc.org/events.)
Sometimes I forget I have a day job.
You know, the one that pays me to develop corporate training. The one that pays the bills and is financing this whole UU Music Director journey.
But it's really easy to forget when music surrounds me. Take this past week for example.
Tuesday, I spent time with Nancy Mathias selecting music for an upcoming service at ORUUC. (Nancy and I will be sharing our stories from the UUMN conference on 9/21 - join us!) From there, I went to Westside UU Church to crash their choir rehearsal in an effort to understand the variety in choir sizes and demographics. They welcomed me with open arms and I think I'll keep coming back.
Wednesday, I rehearsed with the ORUUC choir and band. I led warm ups and rehearsed the choir on the piece I'll be conducting on 9/28. The band is preparing to help Nancy and I with our service on 9/21 as well as a local community event (Taste of Oak Ridge) on 9/20.
Thursday, I went for an audition for the Knoxville Chamber Chorale, the small ensemble of the Knoxville Choral Society. Immediately afterward, I headed to a rehearsal for the Vocal Big Band, a vocal jazz ensemble led by Wendel Werner. We have a concert on 9/12 at the Square Room.
Friday, I met with one of my mentors, Nancy Starr. We talked about preparing to apply for undergraduate music degree programs, music infrastructure (what to keep track of and how to keep track of it), and a bit of conducting.
Saturday, I met with my other mentor, Wendel. We discussed the contrast of ORUUCs choir with Westside's - like how to address different needs by altering the rehearsal style. We also talked about music degree programs in terms of who to talk to and how each program has a unique culture. My mentor meeting was followed by a rehearsal with Wendel and Dave Dunkirk for a show we're doing at Remedy Coffee on 9/27. The rehearsal was followed by another meeting with Wendel and Nancy Mathias, where we caught up on all things ORUUC Music to make sure we have all the logistics and volunteers coordinated for upcoming events.
Today, I staffed the Music and SPIRIT booths in the ORUUC Activities Fair. We got a couple new names for the choir, which is very exciting! (Come sing with us!) I spent the afternoon in another Vocal Big Band rehearsal. Then I came home to rehearse for another audition tomorrow for the Chorale as well as music for leading Westside's rehearsal on Tuesday night.
Tomorrow it starts all over again. I have a music rehearsal or performance every day from now until Sept. 24, with the notable exception of Sept 19, when I'll enjoy Namoli Brennet singing at ORUUC instead. (Tickets are still available at oruuc.org/events.)
Sometimes I forget I have a day job.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Lessons in Land Speed Racing
I found inspiration in an unexpected place and from an unexpected person this week.
I just spent four days in Utah visiting my husband in the middle of his 40th birthday adventure. Joshua is on a journey of his own - a three-week trip from Tennessee to the salt flats in Bonneville, Utah. I flew out to visit him for a few days to support his dream of racing his Hayabusa in the Motorcycle Speed Trials. And instead, I found support in my dream of becoming a Music Director. Funny how that works.
Lesson 1: Preparation.
It took years to plan this trip. Seriously, years. Joshua bought a motorcycle several years ago and has spent tons of time and money getting it to have the power it needs to perform. Then, he had to review all the event safety rules and do even MORE work on the bike to be allowed to race. Then, he had to get all the necessary equipment together (helmet, suit, boots, gloves, etc.) and plan his route there and back (over 4,000 miles), which included planning for delays from traffic or possible emergencies.
Personally, I feel like I have a lot of preparation to go in my journey. In the next few years, I'll be spending tons of time and money gathering the skills and knowledge I need to perform. I'll be looking at Music Director job ads and figuring out the requirements I need to be able to fulfill, leading to even MORE work. And, I'll need to plan my route.
I've gotten a hint at preparation work in getting ready for rehearsing the choir. I've got my plan of what warm ups I want to do, how much of the music I want to cover, what specific sections I want to work on... but I also have to try and build in time for the unexpected.
Lesson 2: Determination.
As the trip drew closer, Joshua took his bike to a shop to get it "tuned". (Non-speed people: The shop adjusts the motorcycle's computer to make the engine as effective as possible.) Unfortunately, the shop found out that there was major damage to the engine, threatening the entire trip to be cancelled. Joshua didn't give up and, thanks to two motorcycle shops working together, got his bike back (with new engine parts built to support the bike's power) with just over a week to spare.
I know a day is going to come when the path toward becoming a Music Director comes across a road block. I don't know what the obstacle is yet, but I know that overcoming it involves the same amount of determination as I've witnessed in watching Joshua get to Bonneville.
Lesson 3: Grace.
Then, when Joshua got to the salt flats on Saturday morning, they looked like a lake instead of a desert. He patiently waited in line for the event, slowly pushing his bike so it wouldn't overheat (another story entirely). When a family behind him in line asked if he'd like to ride in their enclosed trailer across the water, he had the grace - and good sense - to say yes. That family "adopted" us for the time they were at the event as "Tennessee" and "Mrs. Tennessee". They were able to help Joshua out with the ride across the water and help in doing some last minute work on the bike to pass inspection. Joshua was later able to return the favor and provide extra parts he had brought with him. By the time I arrived on Sunday, Josh was already a part of the family - complete with a bright orange shirt to match their team.
It's amazing to me how grace works. I have to remind myself that it's okay to accept grace when it is offered and hope that I will have the opportunity to repay in kind later on. What amazing friendships are formed through grace.
Lesson 4: Excitement.
So, we finally come to the part of the story where Joshua is out on the salt flats ready to get into the line for his first run down the course. A run that has taken years to plan and a week of driving 400 miles a day to get to. Instead of being the first one in line, Joshua tells me he's nervous, shaking. He takes his time to get his equipment together and slowly enters the pre-staging line. He's a bundle of nerves and excitement.
It's a religious experience to watch him, because I'm reflecting on being in front of the choir last week. Delaying walking in, nervous, shaking. Here is this thing I have been called to do, that I have prepared for, but all I am is a bundle of nerves and excitement. I guess that's just what happens when you're passionate about something.
Lesson 5: Coordination.
The first run is done and Joshua is disappointed with the result. His goal is to hit 200 mph this week and the first run came in at 169. He gets off the bike talking about how difficult it is to get his feet in the right place to shift quickly, keep his eye on the tachometer while simultaneously keeping track of his progress on the course, know how soon to ramp up his speed, and steer with his tires constantly losing their grip on the salt. Wow, there's a lot more to this then, "Go as fast as you can." I remind him that it's still the fastest he's ever driven and he realizes this small success.
Are you seeing a theme here yet? I feel like I'm re-writing my last post about being in front of the choir trying to figure out how to make my hands and ears and eyes and heart all work together at the same time. Coordinating conducting and watching the music and listening and watching for reactions and interpreting the song and breaths and cut-offs.... And that's when this blog post came into my head. There's so much that goes into performing well at anything -- and the professionals make it look easy. But once you experience it for yourself, all those moving pieces... Wow. I remember coming away from rehearsal last week thinking there was so much I could improve, but I luckily had many supportive folks around me reminding me of what I did well. I celebrated that small success.
Lesson 6: Redefining Success.
As I mentioned, Joshua's original goal was to come in at 200 mph. Given the preparation work and the power output of his bike, it was a totally realistic goal. However, the salt conditions are causing his bike to lose traction, so much of the power is lost in the spinning tires. The second run comes in even slower than the first. The third run comes in at 170 mph. Instead of calling the entire event a failure and giving up, Joshua decides to pursue a new goal: getting into the "Advanced" lane. That takes an average speed in the timed mile of 175. The next day of racing was cancelled due to wind, but that same wind dried off the track a bit and allowed for more traction. With determination, patience, coordination, and practice, Joshua clocked in at 179 mph on Tuesday. This is not some world record-breaking speed, but it was enough to move him into the "Advanced" lane with the elite racers. And, he got a sticker that he's really proud of. With one more day of racing to go, he's got a few more chances to improve his speed, but he's already coming away with a sense of accomplishment.
I've heard this theme so often in conversations with Music Directors. Success isn't about a choir or musician hitting every note on the page perfectly. Success is defined by the spirit of the music and that ability to stir something in the listener. So even if the conditions aren't conducive to the perfect performance, that spirit can still come through.
I am so thankful that I took this trip to share in my husband's dream. I have come to appreciate this sport, this man, and my calling in an entirely new way. Who could have guessed?
I just spent four days in Utah visiting my husband in the middle of his 40th birthday adventure. Joshua is on a journey of his own - a three-week trip from Tennessee to the salt flats in Bonneville, Utah. I flew out to visit him for a few days to support his dream of racing his Hayabusa in the Motorcycle Speed Trials. And instead, I found support in my dream of becoming a Music Director. Funny how that works.
Lesson 1: Preparation.
It took years to plan this trip. Seriously, years. Joshua bought a motorcycle several years ago and has spent tons of time and money getting it to have the power it needs to perform. Then, he had to review all the event safety rules and do even MORE work on the bike to be allowed to race. Then, he had to get all the necessary equipment together (helmet, suit, boots, gloves, etc.) and plan his route there and back (over 4,000 miles), which included planning for delays from traffic or possible emergencies.
Personally, I feel like I have a lot of preparation to go in my journey. In the next few years, I'll be spending tons of time and money gathering the skills and knowledge I need to perform. I'll be looking at Music Director job ads and figuring out the requirements I need to be able to fulfill, leading to even MORE work. And, I'll need to plan my route.
I've gotten a hint at preparation work in getting ready for rehearsing the choir. I've got my plan of what warm ups I want to do, how much of the music I want to cover, what specific sections I want to work on... but I also have to try and build in time for the unexpected.
Lesson 2: Determination.
As the trip drew closer, Joshua took his bike to a shop to get it "tuned". (Non-speed people: The shop adjusts the motorcycle's computer to make the engine as effective as possible.) Unfortunately, the shop found out that there was major damage to the engine, threatening the entire trip to be cancelled. Joshua didn't give up and, thanks to two motorcycle shops working together, got his bike back (with new engine parts built to support the bike's power) with just over a week to spare.
I know a day is going to come when the path toward becoming a Music Director comes across a road block. I don't know what the obstacle is yet, but I know that overcoming it involves the same amount of determination as I've witnessed in watching Joshua get to Bonneville.
Lesson 3: Grace.
Then, when Joshua got to the salt flats on Saturday morning, they looked like a lake instead of a desert. He patiently waited in line for the event, slowly pushing his bike so it wouldn't overheat (another story entirely). When a family behind him in line asked if he'd like to ride in their enclosed trailer across the water, he had the grace - and good sense - to say yes. That family "adopted" us for the time they were at the event as "Tennessee" and "Mrs. Tennessee". They were able to help Joshua out with the ride across the water and help in doing some last minute work on the bike to pass inspection. Joshua was later able to return the favor and provide extra parts he had brought with him. By the time I arrived on Sunday, Josh was already a part of the family - complete with a bright orange shirt to match their team.
It's amazing to me how grace works. I have to remind myself that it's okay to accept grace when it is offered and hope that I will have the opportunity to repay in kind later on. What amazing friendships are formed through grace.
Lesson 4: Excitement.
So, we finally come to the part of the story where Joshua is out on the salt flats ready to get into the line for his first run down the course. A run that has taken years to plan and a week of driving 400 miles a day to get to. Instead of being the first one in line, Joshua tells me he's nervous, shaking. He takes his time to get his equipment together and slowly enters the pre-staging line. He's a bundle of nerves and excitement.
It's a religious experience to watch him, because I'm reflecting on being in front of the choir last week. Delaying walking in, nervous, shaking. Here is this thing I have been called to do, that I have prepared for, but all I am is a bundle of nerves and excitement. I guess that's just what happens when you're passionate about something.
Lesson 5: Coordination.
The first run is done and Joshua is disappointed with the result. His goal is to hit 200 mph this week and the first run came in at 169. He gets off the bike talking about how difficult it is to get his feet in the right place to shift quickly, keep his eye on the tachometer while simultaneously keeping track of his progress on the course, know how soon to ramp up his speed, and steer with his tires constantly losing their grip on the salt. Wow, there's a lot more to this then, "Go as fast as you can." I remind him that it's still the fastest he's ever driven and he realizes this small success.
Are you seeing a theme here yet? I feel like I'm re-writing my last post about being in front of the choir trying to figure out how to make my hands and ears and eyes and heart all work together at the same time. Coordinating conducting and watching the music and listening and watching for reactions and interpreting the song and breaths and cut-offs.... And that's when this blog post came into my head. There's so much that goes into performing well at anything -- and the professionals make it look easy. But once you experience it for yourself, all those moving pieces... Wow. I remember coming away from rehearsal last week thinking there was so much I could improve, but I luckily had many supportive folks around me reminding me of what I did well. I celebrated that small success.
Lesson 6: Redefining Success.
As I mentioned, Joshua's original goal was to come in at 200 mph. Given the preparation work and the power output of his bike, it was a totally realistic goal. However, the salt conditions are causing his bike to lose traction, so much of the power is lost in the spinning tires. The second run comes in even slower than the first. The third run comes in at 170 mph. Instead of calling the entire event a failure and giving up, Joshua decides to pursue a new goal: getting into the "Advanced" lane. That takes an average speed in the timed mile of 175. The next day of racing was cancelled due to wind, but that same wind dried off the track a bit and allowed for more traction. With determination, patience, coordination, and practice, Joshua clocked in at 179 mph on Tuesday. This is not some world record-breaking speed, but it was enough to move him into the "Advanced" lane with the elite racers. And, he got a sticker that he's really proud of. With one more day of racing to go, he's got a few more chances to improve his speed, but he's already coming away with a sense of accomplishment.
I've heard this theme so often in conversations with Music Directors. Success isn't about a choir or musician hitting every note on the page perfectly. Success is defined by the spirit of the music and that ability to stir something in the listener. So even if the conditions aren't conducive to the perfect performance, that spirit can still come through.
I am so thankful that I took this trip to share in my husband's dream. I have come to appreciate this sport, this man, and my calling in an entirely new way. Who could have guessed?
Saturday, August 23, 2014
These people are staring at me!
On Wednesday evening, I made my first attempt at directing the choir. We started with a few warm ups and learned a new song.
Before I get too far, let me talk about my first song for the choir. It's a beautiful hymn written by Lucy Holstedt called, "The Great Community." To a skilled music director, it's 16 measures and probably pretty easy to learn and direct. But to me, man... It's a whole 16 measures, repeated three times. Count them - 48 measures that I have to conduct, rehearse, listen, watch, check for understanding, decide how to interpret it, get my arms and hands and ears and eyes and soul all working together at the same time. So - oh my God - so complicated.
Now that I've set the stage, let me continue.
I walked into rehearsal feeling both nervous and prepared. My legs were shaking as I started the first warm up. I mean, seriously, all those people are staring at me! And expecting me to say something insightful! As we got further into that first warm up, I took a moment to breathe (helpful, since it was a breathing-focused activity). By the time we finished our warm ups and moved on to the music, I felt more comfortable. Don't get me wrong - there was still a ton of, "Oh my God, what do I do now?" going on in my head, but it was a dull roar.
All in all, I felt good about the rehearsal. And good doesn't mean perfect (Thank you, David and Wendel.). I figured a few things out as I went (like, "Hey, counting folks in - 2,3,4 - is WAY important if you want them to start at the right time and in the right tempo."). I wrote down a few things that I needed to learn (like, "How the heck do I show everyone where to breathe?"). Mostly, though, I just tried to revel in the moment and do the best I could with the skills I currently have available.
The whole experience was equal parts wonderful and nerve-wracking. As I told Nancy Starr, part of me wanted to jump up and down like a kid in a candy store and part of me wanted to throw up. Which is good. Those nerves let me know that I'm alive -- and that I care enough about the outcome to worry about it.
I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who gave me encouragement this week leading up to the rehearsal... And the choir, who was so attentive and made my job easier... And those who reached out to me after rehearsal to give me your feedback. It's all new to me, and I revel in every comment. Thanks for your support, your suggestions, your encouragement, and your energy.
It is truly amazing to be wrapped in this community as I learn and grow.
Before I get too far, let me talk about my first song for the choir. It's a beautiful hymn written by Lucy Holstedt called, "The Great Community." To a skilled music director, it's 16 measures and probably pretty easy to learn and direct. But to me, man... It's a whole 16 measures, repeated three times. Count them - 48 measures that I have to conduct, rehearse, listen, watch, check for understanding, decide how to interpret it, get my arms and hands and ears and eyes and soul all working together at the same time. So - oh my God - so complicated.
Now that I've set the stage, let me continue.
I walked into rehearsal feeling both nervous and prepared. My legs were shaking as I started the first warm up. I mean, seriously, all those people are staring at me! And expecting me to say something insightful! As we got further into that first warm up, I took a moment to breathe (helpful, since it was a breathing-focused activity). By the time we finished our warm ups and moved on to the music, I felt more comfortable. Don't get me wrong - there was still a ton of, "Oh my God, what do I do now?" going on in my head, but it was a dull roar.
All in all, I felt good about the rehearsal. And good doesn't mean perfect (Thank you, David and Wendel.). I figured a few things out as I went (like, "Hey, counting folks in - 2,3,4 - is WAY important if you want them to start at the right time and in the right tempo."). I wrote down a few things that I needed to learn (like, "How the heck do I show everyone where to breathe?"). Mostly, though, I just tried to revel in the moment and do the best I could with the skills I currently have available.
The whole experience was equal parts wonderful and nerve-wracking. As I told Nancy Starr, part of me wanted to jump up and down like a kid in a candy store and part of me wanted to throw up. Which is good. Those nerves let me know that I'm alive -- and that I care enough about the outcome to worry about it.
I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who gave me encouragement this week leading up to the rehearsal... And the choir, who was so attentive and made my job easier... And those who reached out to me after rehearsal to give me your feedback. It's all new to me, and I revel in every comment. Thanks for your support, your suggestions, your encouragement, and your energy.
It is truly amazing to be wrapped in this community as I learn and grow.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Shame on you, David Glasgow
I would like to dedicate this blog post to the public shaming of David Glasgow...
...for giving me the feels.
Dear David Glasgow,
You made me cry, you UU royalty, you.
With your words of releasing perfection and your songs of support.
And encouraging me to get comfortable making a fool of myself in front of everyone.
And making me look outside of myself to what is important about this calling.
For opening words that reminded me to shed my skin.
And closing words that called me to take risks and follow my calling boldly.
For a choir song that endlessly repeats "in this holy moment" in my head
And a sermon song that reminded me that I not only need, but have, someone to fall back on -- and was so emotionally provoking that I couldn't breathe.
Shame on you, David. You made me cry.
And thank you.
...for giving me the feels.
Dear David Glasgow,
You made me cry, you UU royalty, you.
With your words of releasing perfection and your songs of support.
And encouraging me to get comfortable making a fool of myself in front of everyone.
And making me look outside of myself to what is important about this calling.
For opening words that reminded me to shed my skin.
And closing words that called me to take risks and follow my calling boldly.
For a choir song that endlessly repeats "in this holy moment" in my head
And a sermon song that reminded me that I not only need, but have, someone to fall back on -- and was so emotionally provoking that I couldn't breathe.
Shame on you, David. You made me cry.
And thank you.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
I've Seen This Place Before
I do not like being a novice. (I do not like it, Sam I Am.)
I like to learn... and then share what I know as a resource for others around me. I've recognized this innate drive for a long time. I've built success in my current career from letting this drive guide me. I am excited when people come to me for information. And, as a training professional, people reach out to me from across the US to ask me questions about instructional design and use of technology in learning. And it energizes me.
But I started someplace. And it wasn't pretty.
In my boss' office, with sticky notes on a wall.
It was the first training course I ever built that was going to be distributed to managers in the entire workforce. Any manager in the company would see my training, from chef managers up through the VPs. I'd have no problem with that at all today. But there was this one thing: When I was assigned as the project lead 15 years ago, I had never developed a full training course before. A lesson here and there on certain topics, yes. But a three-hour classroom course that was going to be cascaded through the HR team to every manager up through the executive level of the company?
So, my boss had called me in her office to talk me through the content and how we could structure it. After my flailing a bit on where to begin with this seemingly massive project, we started with key ideas on sticky notes and then organized them into modules on her wall. We spent hours just going back and forth - me not understanding the best ways to scaffold content and her just allowing the discussion to happen. I remember feeling like an idiot during our entire work session. But at the end, I walked away with a structure for what became my first classroom training program.
Something emotional happened that day. The stress of spending time in a place where I was the novice - of trying to do something that I'd never done before and struggling to find my way - was intense. And it all hit me after the work session with my boss. I remember taking a break to release a few tears at the lake. Then coming back at it. I just wanted it to be right and was totally afraid of embarrassing myself in front of executives with poor training.
Why am I sharing this story on a blog about my calling to music ministry? Because I visited this emotional place again yesterday. Of being a novice. Of feeling inadequate to serve my calling. And man, it was not pretty.
Let's just say, I struggled with self-doubt. A lot of it. And was lucky enough to have two Music Directors on hand to listen, receive, and respond to my cries. I was comforted in their stories of similar feelings. But, I admit, I hurt yesterday. In my head, I was screaming, "I'm not worthy of this calling!"
Thankfully, memories of starting out in my training career have reminded me that this is just the beginning.
There is a flame that burns deep inside me. And a few tears cannot drown it.
I like to learn... and then share what I know as a resource for others around me. I've recognized this innate drive for a long time. I've built success in my current career from letting this drive guide me. I am excited when people come to me for information. And, as a training professional, people reach out to me from across the US to ask me questions about instructional design and use of technology in learning. And it energizes me.
But I started someplace. And it wasn't pretty.
In my boss' office, with sticky notes on a wall.
It was the first training course I ever built that was going to be distributed to managers in the entire workforce. Any manager in the company would see my training, from chef managers up through the VPs. I'd have no problem with that at all today. But there was this one thing: When I was assigned as the project lead 15 years ago, I had never developed a full training course before. A lesson here and there on certain topics, yes. But a three-hour classroom course that was going to be cascaded through the HR team to every manager up through the executive level of the company?
So, my boss had called me in her office to talk me through the content and how we could structure it. After my flailing a bit on where to begin with this seemingly massive project, we started with key ideas on sticky notes and then organized them into modules on her wall. We spent hours just going back and forth - me not understanding the best ways to scaffold content and her just allowing the discussion to happen. I remember feeling like an idiot during our entire work session. But at the end, I walked away with a structure for what became my first classroom training program.
Something emotional happened that day. The stress of spending time in a place where I was the novice - of trying to do something that I'd never done before and struggling to find my way - was intense. And it all hit me after the work session with my boss. I remember taking a break to release a few tears at the lake. Then coming back at it. I just wanted it to be right and was totally afraid of embarrassing myself in front of executives with poor training.
Why am I sharing this story on a blog about my calling to music ministry? Because I visited this emotional place again yesterday. Of being a novice. Of feeling inadequate to serve my calling. And man, it was not pretty.
Let's just say, I struggled with self-doubt. A lot of it. And was lucky enough to have two Music Directors on hand to listen, receive, and respond to my cries. I was comforted in their stories of similar feelings. But, I admit, I hurt yesterday. In my head, I was screaming, "I'm not worthy of this calling!"
Thankfully, memories of starting out in my training career have reminded me that this is just the beginning.
There is a flame that burns deep inside me. And a few tears cannot drown it.
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