Thursday, 7 June 2012

Flavour

I spent at least 12 years of the earlier part of my life learning music and performing.

It wasn't the kind of childhood that I would have chosen, but my childhood chose me - so to speak. A childhood of constant pressure and competition when it came to stage-work and exams. A childhood of always having to memorize long, 10-paged music scores so that I could internalize every piece and have it performed as a sort of dance whereby my body and soul worked together to express the heart of the song-writer. A childhood of constant awareness - that not only my music was scrutinized by the silent critics but also my life. A childhood... and half of my adolescent years of listening to instrumental, classical and jazz music instead of your typical pop-songs. I never had pop-idols - I think I was more knowledgeable of the lives of classical composers from the ancient times than any contemporary pop-star in my time. It became even more awkward when my own peers at school were going gaga over posters and MTV. And so, my nickname at school was Capsule-girl. Cute as it sounded, the implications were lonely. (I used to have crushes on guys who thought of me as a mere naive little girl too!)

It was a childhood nobody really knew I had. Everyone knew me as the shy, quiet and nerdy student in school... or the gymnast (because I used to be very active in the sport)... or perhaps the chubby girl who thought that she was good enough to be dance (not that I was that chubby - but the other kids thought that I was). When it came to my involvement in music, I never thought that it was worth mentioning. My childhood ambitions had nothing to do with music. When my mom asked me if I wanted to become a music teacher ever, I told her, "NEVER!"

This kind of childhood chose me. Not solely by my parents' will, but ultimately by God's sovereignty, it chose me. I rebelled against it for a while (after failing one of my music exams), during my late teens. Quit music school and playing music for a good 3 years or so. Of course, my eating disorders took a toll on my former interests - and I didn't find myself drawn to music as I used to be. However, I became a Christian - and since then God has been leading me back to music again. Not merely to be performed - but as a true passion. Serving God as a pianist brought me to enjoy making the music without feeling like I need to impress anyone; it not only brought healing to wounds but it made me stronger too. Think of it this way - what I can I give to God that He doesn't already have? What is my music compared to the breath-taking symphonies of nature? What have I played that nobody else has not played for Him? Nothing... and yet, He has given me the privilege to serve the King of kings - to bring my insufficient and incomplete personal offerings to Him. 

Nevertheless ~ my foundations have raised me up to be an extremely insecure (and sensitive) person when it comes to performing. Naturally, I get very nervous before performances (to the extent that I sometimes jinx myself) and I am never quite satisfied after a performance because I feel that I could have done better. Any person's comment would be unconsciously analyzed for the element of criticism and even encouragement can be a source of discouragement. These not only make me tired - but I tear myself down further and fuel my low self-esteem. I have no idea how good (or how bad) I really am. There is nothing in particular that I can take pride in (because everyone else seems to be doing the same stuff).

Having said that, I wish that I would and could discover my own flavour. I don't want to be prideful and gloat over any musician for that matter - because honestly, you can't compare any two musicians. Styles would differ for one thing. However, I want to know God's purpose for me as a musician. I don't have to play at the Carnegie Hall, but I want to know what is it in my music that is able to make a difference in the lives of people. After-all, if it is a sovereign gift from God, I want to know the depths, width, length and height of this gift - and its true potential to even change the world the tiniest bit. Not for myself, but for the God who brought every meaning to my short life on the earth.

This is a journey that I want to wholeheartedly traverse.

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