i was having a chat with a good friend the other day, and we stumbled into a really fascinating topic — finding the “right” person — that, for one reason or another, i had never considered realistic.

i stand convinced that there’s not ONE person out there capable of being the “right” person for me.  there are probably lots of “right” dudes who would make me happy.  in fact, i’d come to grips with the list of characteristics and beliefs these dudes must possess/subscribe to in order to reach my heartstrings.

what’s wrong with this assertion, however, is it doesn’t actually consider THE PERSON.  so i sort of sat stunned, thinking about how limited characteristics (he must be kind, smart, funny, etc.) and beliefs (he must be an optimist, he must be a dreamer, etc.) can be.  they are parts of a person.  but they are not THE PERSON.  that whole is something that characteristics and beliefs just scratch at the surface of.

but it makes sense; often i’ve been attracted to people on varying levels — friends and lovers alike — that others questioned me on.  ”why do you hang out/like THAT PERSON?”  i’d sometimes ask myself that, too. never explaining it was proof that what i’m understanding now DOES exist.

it’s not just “i don’t know, because s/he’s kind, funny, etc….”  the real answer is, “because s/he’s wonderful.”

enough said.

for a long time, or at least for somewhat extended periods of time, i didn’t touch the piano.  i was at college, or i was in sports, or i had just moved to the dc area.  it sort of doesn’t matter the excuse; i didn’t exercise my creativity on the piano.

a few years ago, my good friend audrey gave me hers.  it’s a saloon style guy; gigantic and intimidating, and very very old.  it had been collecting dust for years, and the promise of my playing it was imminent.  it deserved to sing.

after the most nightmarish move i’ve ever witnessed from a terrible moving company that broke its gorgeous mirror and then denied all of my requests for reimbursement, the piano hugged my wall.  it sounded awful.  josh tried playing suzuki on it.  it made my ears hurt.  my heart sank.  i had a behemoth wanting me to love it, and i didn’t.  plus it smelled like a garage.

i played it a few times.  i got it tuned once.  then, another couple years passed with only a few tickles.

then, for some reason, i sat down early this year and gave it a go.  i did the next night, too, and then i called the tuner again.  i’d found something in my brain that was cooped up for a while; secondary to all the other fun slash distracting things in my life.

i started recording a bit.  i started playing duets with a friend, who’d bring his guitar and make music with me.  i started singing again.  i’d start playing and 45 minutes later realize my back was hurting from not moving.  well, swaying maybe. 

because i was playing so often, i heard the pitch start waning before it moved too far.  the piano tuner came back.  twice in one year.

my piano is happy.  so am i.

viewfromellis

this weekend, i’m going to get a hot cup of joe at donkey coffee in athens, ohio. because, well, why not? like a huge tool, i missed seeing ohio u last month (which would have been the first time since grad school in 2003) because i double booked myself and chose austin city limits instead. which was a fucking awesome choice.

plus, the leaves are still hanging onto their burgundy and orange — and hopefully their branches — which makes me smile just thinking about driving through the hills of maryland and into the athens valley where i’ll meet with a couple old friends and talk about life, and probably hike through hocking hills.

i’m taking my camera.

so, a couple months ago, the idea of studying music punt kicked my brain and i was flying.  i was writing entrance papers and reading books on jazz voraciously and thinking about how cool it is going to be that i’ll potentially be attending one of the greatest programs in the united states for musicology.   i was studying for the gre — and taking the gre — and pumping along.

as i chatted with lloyd last tuesday, and told him i was feeling really cold feet/overwhelmed with all the admissions jonx i had to do,  he helped me to understand that this decision is like marriage; it’s a whole life change.  the thing is, it was a life change i thought for two straight months was exactly what i wanted.  so why the cold feet?  lordy if i was marrying someone and felt this way before the big day, i would hop a plane to paris.

basically, we concluded during that chat that i’m not sure this is the right decision, but i should go for it, give myself some time to adjust assuming i am accepted and go into a program, and re-evaluate after a year or so.  sweet, back on track.  except the next morning, the weird gut check was still hanging out.

then i noticed that one of the program requires at least a 600 for the verbal section of the GRE.  i got a 550.  and considering how much i hate standardized tests, i was deflated.  taking the test again would push me past admission deadlines, particularly given that i need additional time to study.  i was disappointed, but, at the same time, relieved in a way.

because i found myself questioning everything all over again over the past week or two, i realize i’d sort of eased back to reality — my punt kicked brain wasn’t soaring anymore, and i was asking questions and envisioning the paths of my life again, which was healthy but sobering.  decisions i’ve made in the past are obvious and i roll with them indefinitely; some, i never look back.  here, i was looking back having not even applied yet.  ack.

sure, my perspective has changed somewhat substantially over the past few weeks given a couple monumental shifts in my life, like the election. it’s fascinating and terrifying that a month ago i had tunnel vision and now i’m feeling totally content WAITING until the right time
, which, admittedly, might be much later in life after i’ve been my own boss and i own property on the cote d’azur and made friends all over the world…