Cold walls staring back at me.
Is this a dream?
With bow in hand
I march on through.
Surround myself with the cold walls,
hear the tone
so off pitch.
I take a breath.
I sweep the hairs
They make a sound,
when the touch the strings
a rugged scratch.
Take a deep breath,
you're on your way.
Maybe not today
but I see myself someday.
I'll see myself someday,
outside these cold walls
leaving the scratch of yesterday.
And in this moment
I hear a sound.
It's soft in the beginning,
and then it goes scratch.
It's not my throat, it's not some pain,
it's this bow I hold,
against those string.
When I was a little girl, I feel in love with the sound of the violin. Pure tones that seduce and captured my heart. It spoke, well, It speaks when it's played in a fashion that the instrumentalists honors its sound. Brings the best tone out of it. It was and it will be the first of my loves for stringed instrument.
Mom had me play the piano, and while yes I'm reasonably okay, when I'm at home. Put me in front of a crowd and I'll slowly begin to doubt myself.
It started at a young age, this strive for perfection. Today I can say that I enjoy the occasional "wrong" chord while performing. You know, but the people listening? Nah...maybe they do? Who knows?
One thing I know...I love stringed instruments. And a while back I purchased a violin, trying to recant my 12 year old self back in the orchestra days. I was pretty good at playing. I even received a couple of Superior awards at competitions. With time this dream of playing faded away, and that violin you ask? I have no idea where it went.
So, I bought this violin. It's nice, it looks nice, but does it sound nice? Depends on the player. I sat in my music room and took it out of it's case. Tuned the strings and took a deep breath. Within a matter of minutes there I was again, doubting, talking down to myself saying "you'll never play this right." I feel embarrassed by what my neighbors would possibly be hearing.
Off I went, and locked myself in the bathroom. 4 cold walls. The mirror on my left. I took a deep breath and scratch scratch scratch. That's all I heard. No pure tones, no vibratto, no smooth bowing, no song to play. Just me and my violin, playing scales and figuring this whole thing out again. The more I would hear the scratch, the better I began to play. Eventually said a prayer. "Lord, help me play this violin for you. Help me be consistent with practicing, with holding this bow. Help me enjoy this process of simply worshipping you and walking in the gifts you have given me." God answered in His own way.He reminded me, that when we have a desire in us, He anointed, it will be done. It will produce fruit. But, how will I spend time watering that seed?
In those four walls, I let down my insecurities. I let go of my expectations. I simply play through the scratch and smiled every time it happened. With time I know, there won't be anymore scratching.
It's like when you are sick. Your throat begins to get scratchy. What do you do? You take medicine, you care for it, you make that concoction your Grandmother told you about 10 years ago and you still haven't made it. You seek for healing. You nurture.
While I'm out here ridding myself of the scratch, I'll find joy in it because these hands I have are meant to worship God.
I hope this has encouraged you to push through whatever battle, insecurity, or uncomfortable challenge you face. Conquer it with Joy. Smile back at it!