Yesterday I was wondering why I felt such resistance to getting my compositions out of my head and onto the keyboard. So, as I sat at my piano to compose, I was really listening to that voice in my head, the one that usually says, “You can do this later.”
I played and composed while it talked in the background. The funny thing was that the more deeply I got absorbed in my composition, the more faint that voice became, until it was just a murmuring somewhere far away.
And what I realized was this. That resistance is the voice of doubt, the one that looks far into the future and wonders if what I’m doing is any good and how much work I’ll have to put in to make my work rise to the standards I’ve set. It’s the voice of fear, the voice of laziness, of taking the easy road.
But as someone very wise once told me, the easy road is the hard road.
So, it’s ok that I feel a tug to step away from the piano every time I want to compose music. That tug is telling me that I’m about to do something different and challenging and, in that way, I’m growing.
What do living things do? They grow. So that voice tells me that I’m living.
- Practice Major and minor scales
- Practice 2 Bach Inventions
- Practice Brahms Intermezzo
- Practice Clair de Lune
- Practice Gershwin Preludes 1-3
- Set down ideas for easy version of Clair de Lune
- Sort through ballet recordings and develop ideas
UDATE: I did them all!