Sometimes I forget, in the business of teacher life, that music really is my home base.  I find myself centered after singing, playing, or writing.  It could be a performance or even a long rehearsal, but as long as I’m in the music, my self becomes balanced again.

The Cross centers me, likewise communion and reading God’s word.  But when there is no room to weep, no wine around, and no Bible in my hands, there is music.  It becomes my direct input, built in from the start, from my Creator to my Creator.  It’s God saying, “I’ve got this; you’re good to go,” which is often just what I need to hear, feel, know.

120 students depending on my leadership, my open arms, my positivity, my knowledge, my precision, my support, is a real feeling to me.  In this, it is easy to feel like I have to be intense and driving hard for excellence 100% of the days.  This is stressful.  How can I be so on point so often?  I certainly can never be perfect.  I can’t say all the right things at all the right times.  Or plan a world-changing lesson.  All I can do is step into the music around me and let everything else, including all my pieces, fall into place.

I am dumfounded that I can forget such a simple truth.

Today, I had a moment of doubt just before picking up my baton.  I doubted myself.  Could I really conduct this group, completely new to me, through a successful and profitable rehearsal?  Would I be enough for them as a leader?  I was succumbing to the pressure of my work and even my heart’s desire to be good.  And not good in the sense of accomplished in my tasks, but good in the sense of worthy and worthwhile to have in the room.  Good in the sense of good-natured and inviting.  I took a breath and decided that no matter what the outcome, I was in it for real and for good, for there simply had to be good at the double bar line.

Beat 1 was enough.  I clicked into my true nature.  Musician, interpreter, believer.