Day 6: On Performing

This may be a series of posts in which I process performing. There is just too much to formulate all at once, and it's such an integral part of what I am doing in life right now that I often lack self-awareness about it. But I'll try for a few minutes right now to get some of these thoughts out while they're still fresh.

There is pretty much one reason why I play the guitar in public. It's that quote from Chariots of Fire- "When I run, I feel God's pleasure." There is no other reason that I would do this to myself voluntarily - to have to get up on stage, throw my heart out at strangers, spend every ounce of my free time practicing, and be vulnerable in front of a large group of people on one of the most exposing and intimate instruments in existence. I am not a person that naturally likes the limelight. Sometimes I think about performing and I want to grow a turtle shell, hide away, and never come out. Some days I declare to Paul, "After this one, I'm going to retire."

Now, if you attended my concert last night, you would probably not ever think this. I am now well-seasoned enough in the art of performing that I can hide my fear of playing in public extremely well, and it might even seem like I'm having a good time playing classical guitar for an hour on a stage. This is not totally false - I do enjoy it, and there are moments where I have never heard the music the way that I can when performing, because the senses are so much more acute in a pressured situation. There's no way to really prepare for the challenges of the pressured situation except to just do it, do it, and do it again. So I've done it, and done it, and I'll do it again, hopefully my whole life. It is often so hard for me to keep going, to work up new repertoire, to keep getting up on stage and presenting myself and the music that I play in some kind of beautiful way, but I do it because I know God is pleased when He sees me trusting him and taking this challenge. I feel like every concert I do is a bit of a freefall. I jump, I fall backwards, I close my eyes, and then I dive in. And He always catches me.

Yesterday, a giant rainbow was stretched over the city of San Bruno. As I drove through the drizzling rain to get to the church, weaving through residential areas and wondering if my GPS was leading me astray, I noticed that as I followed the route to the church that the rainbow was getting larger. As I drove up to the church, the rainbow was at its largest viewpoint yet, with one side of it looking like it was coming right out of the roof of the church. It was completely strange.

The concert started and I felt a wave of peace watch over me. As I was playing Bach last night, I truly felt like I was in some kind of other dimension. My mind was almost empty - that clear state that is normally so hard to get to where there was nothing but musical lines going through my heart and mind instead of self-deprecating, negative talk. I felt peace to trust and to worship and to love that moment dearly, and I felt an intense joy. The promise of the rainbow stuck with me. Through this storm of preparation, the result could be utter beauty coming out of my fingers. And I think God was pleased.