In the long sad time, when the sky was grey

And the keen blast blew through the city drear

When delight had fled from the night and the day

My chill heart whispered, “June will be here”

A June Tide Echo, Amy Levy

I find that I’m a little mournful just now.  In my original plan, by now I’d be already in Edinburgh, joining friends, seeing sites, sharing tunes (writing on originally scheduled blog post topics!).  I’d be helping students prepare for competitions and performances and recitals.  I’d be trying to decide what, from my “OSAS at Oberlin” stash would be appropriate for “OSAS at the blissfully air conditioned Baldwin-Wallace”.  I’d be organizing my calendar to practice teaching, practice weddings, practice performances, composing, arranging.

[I refuse to think of life before all the sickness of this year-to-date as “normal” because there is no normal.  There is only change we do not see.   And normal = mundane and who wants to be mundane?!]

But as for right here, right now, it is easy to be suckered in by things around us (like social media mostly, although regular media isn’t really helping any either) and its unending stream of “content” (some good, some pathetic).  And for good or bad, I found that I was being sucked in and becoming envious of the people who were posting clever, or at least amusing, videos of their funny children, hilarious pets, perfectly executed, while distributed, performance art, or oops-filled online meetings.  Increasingly, I was feeling particularly peeved that I, a creative and artistic person, was not also generating huge vats of content…like so many artists posting (highly edited) stuff.

But maybe, with a little shift in focus, I can see that this is not the truth of it.  I am doing inventive things (but maybe not subjecting everyone else with the outputs).   And then I remembered one of my favorite quotes. 

Never compare your blooper reel with everyone else’s highlight reel.

This quote should probably be updated to include the words “tightly curated and heavily edited” highlight reels.

I remain excited for this summer and I’m trying to embrace all the changes (yes, I’m mournful and still remain excited…I’m complex like that).  I’m also trying to appreciate that those changes represent potential.  I still look forward to next summer when I might have even more time with friends in Scotland – and the extended absence will definitely make the hearts grow fonder.  I’ll have more tunes to share and a whetted appetite for sites, sounds, smells and tastes.  My students will outgrow the music we started to ready for performance this year and will move on to other pieces to ready for next year’s events and venues.  Pieces we might not have even thought about if “everything was normal”!  I’ll have time to consider the joyful memories of the items in the “OSAS Oberlin” bin while dreaming up what excitement we will find in our new OSAS location in Barea, OH.  And hopefully I’ll be scrambling to get from competition to wedding to workshop – happily busy and working.

Be careful of the perfectness of what you see.  Spend time with your harp – Imperfect time. Try new things.  Play new stuff.  Play old stuff…in new ways.  Share what you feel like sharing.  What are you doing?  What are you planning for next June?  What imperfectly perfect thing are you working on?  Let me know in the comments!