I am musician. Hear me squeak.

I am a musician.  Most people recognize me as "that girl that plays the piano at church" or "the band director that I thought was an 8th grader."  Hopefully people also know me as a person who is trying to love God and others, but many know me as a musician.

I started playing the piano when I was 6.  And I was NOT a prodigy.  Not even close.  But I enjoyed it, and my mom taught me how to use the kitchen timer to set how long I needed to practice every day.  While I'm sure there were days she had to tie me to the piano bench for my 30 minutes, I'm also sure there were days where nearly begged me to go do anything else. 

In junior high, I joined band and started learning on my mom's clarinet.  That clarinet is now a lovely lamp in my house.  Being the overachiever that I am, I started taking clarinet lessons every week, in addition to my weekly piano lessons.  My junior or senior year of high school, my parents gave me a flute for Christmas and I started teaching myself.  My freshman year of college, Dr. Moore shoved an alto saxophone in my arms the Friday before spring break and said, "Congratulations, you're in the jazz band now.  Figure it out."

Throughout my undergraduate and graduate degrees, I was averaging around 4 credit hours/semester of private lessons, 4-5 vocal and instrumental ensembles and regularly playing for operas and musicals.  I was busy performing almost every week with these ensembles or as a guest in friend's recitals - and I LOVED it!

Then I graduated.

At first I enjoyed the break from the constant preparation and performances.  My first year out of school I was teaching private lessons and working as a substitute teacher, so while I wasn't playing as much as I was, I was still getting in a few hours each week.  My second year after graduation I earned a contract position as a full time band director, and my practice time quickly disappeared.  I tried to keep it up at first, but other things would quickly take over my time.  And almost before I could realize it, weeks would go by without playing at all.

Moments would pass where I didn't notice that I missed it.  200 band students can keep you busier than you ever realized...but recently, I find myself craving it all the time.  Playing at church is fun, but I miss the energy of a group of people tackling a piece of music with incredible focus and determination.  I miss getting a new piece of music and starting to figure it out, and then taking that new music and performing it for a room of people.  I miss playing.

So today, I started playing.  I got to school a little early, put together my clarinet, and started playing.  A few long tones (which don't hold out as long as they used to), some scales (some of those third octaves need the cobwebs wiped away), and some Saint-Saens (which sounded pretty good, if I say so myself :) ).  During one of the band classes I sat in with the clarinets and remembered what it was like to sit up straight and play with a group. 

It's been just one day, but it felt familiar.  I remembered the friends I made spending hours with them in theater pits and chamber music rehearsals.  I remembered how it felt to have a goal of performing a set of music with detailed excellence.  Music was my way of expressing myself for so long, I can't believe I let it get away from me.  Now, I am excited to experience music again.

I am musician.  Hear me squeak.