Monday, November 1, 2010

God's Love in a Grand Piano

Today was just one of those days.

Last weekend was absolutely fantastic. Truly magical--I got to spend a lot of time with some really fantastic people, I dressed up like a scarecrow, I danced like no tomorrow.

And then came today. Maybe it was the fall after the weekend's rise, like the ebbing of the tide. Maybe life is just like that sometimes. Whatever the cause, today I felt down. Like meh. Like nothing was going quite right for me, and like I couldn't get anything right.

As my usual retreat in situations such as this is music, I decided to take a break from pretending I was doing calculus to sing. I like to sing in the Harris Fine Arts Center (HFAC), in one of the practice rooms in the basement. I especially like these practice rooms because each and every one comes equipped with a (well maintained and in tune) piano, and while I do spend most of my time singing, there is something very cathartic about playing 5 minutes of Klaus Badelt and Kenneth Cope. Even better, a few of the rooms have a grand piano!

Just one problem. I am not the only one who loves these practice rooms; they are often quite packed, sometimes completely filled. When they are full I am forced to descend another set of stairs in search of an empty organ practice room. Finding harpsichords in the organ practice rooms may have been awesome, but there is something fulfilling, something solid, about a piano's keys beneath my fingers.

With this in mind, I started my walk down the long hall, peering from door to door, looking for an empty room. As I started my walk, I began a silent prayer. Today was hard, but I know you love me anyway. Please... help me find an open practice room, one with a good piano. A Grand Piano, even! I started walking.

As I proceeded down the hall, seeing full practice room after full practice room, I said another prayer. I know you could make a grand piano appear here if you wanted to, but you don't need to. I will know you love me even without a grand piano, and I'll be ok eventually. I'll get over this slump. If all the practice rooms are full, I can go downstairs! It's fine, really it is.

I reached the end of the hall. I looked at the last door. It was open, and the room was dark. I stepped forward, turned on the light, and saw a grand piano.


cindy baldwin said...

Beautiful, Jason.

mom said...

I think that the last part of your prayer is so important--because then we are open in a new way to receive God's love...

Lauren Fine said...

And then you made friendship bread and the world was good again, right?
As always, I loved your post, especially the poignancy of the last sentence. Beautiful.
And I agree, this weekend was wonderful. :)

Jason said...

Thanks :D
Exactly! Once I had already accepted that I didn't need a grand piano, and once I was ok without one, seeing one there at the end of the hall was... amazing.
You know, that's pretty much how it was! The piano was kind of the turning point of the day. By the time I wrote this, I was happy again :) Sho was!

Collin said...

I love this Jason!! I could not empathize with you more! The beauty of the piano (especially a good grand! :D ) is truly incredible! I thank God infinitely for such a wonderful instrument!

Jason said...

I'm glad you know how it feels! You better than me, most likely.