Happy. Smiling. Talking. Admiring. Loving.
No wheelchair. No oxygen.
Her fingers were working.
She was alive.
And it hurts me more than I can articulate.
I miss her.
Yesterday, the students and I were talking about the pain we encounter in life. How we know as part of our journey that we are going to live through some serious pain--and how as musicians we should use that pain to embrace vulnerability.
Because through our vulnerability, we become authentic and real.
But, I understand the fear of being vulnerable. As artists we cannot just feel an emotion. We live for it, we exist for it. We become the emotion.
We don't cry, we sob.
We don't get angry, we rage.
We don't get excited, we gesticulate.
We are living, breathing, balls of emotion and if we aren't careful, we let them get the best of us. Therefore, we tend to want to cover them up.
But, my challenge to you: embrace the vulnerable. Embrace the pain. Embrace the suffering. Embrace the sadness. Walk through it, live through it, and come out on the other side with battle wounds and scars. Don't keep it bottled. Don't keep it hidden away until it bursts out in a fury.
A true artist can (and will) use the tools given to them.
All of [our] lives, in every season,
You are still God, [we] have a reason to sing,
[we] have a reason to worship.
"The Desert Song"