Losing My Grip On My Wits

I think I'm losing my grip on my wits.  This morning I broke another thermometer.  Disgusted with myself - 2 in 2 days.  This is wearing us out.  Mustard packs, temps, fixing food and etc is sure getting me down.  - Annette, December 1943

Annette spent most of December 1943 worrying about her second-born son, Deedee (real name Tom - my dad).  Deedee was just over 1 year old and had just been diagnosed with malignant malaria.  He was on a complicated treatment plan, including "acetalarsyn" (probably for malnutrition/anemia), atebrine and quinine (anti-malarial drugs), and "mustard packs" (mustard powder spread under bandages to stimulate healing). 

(Spoiler alert - my dad survived.  Since malaria stays in your body forever, he would continue to have flare-ups throughout his life.  He was also known to enjoy gin and tonics, always using tonic water with quinine, which he probably considered preventative treatment for those malarial episodes.  Totally my dad's sense of humor.)

Annette was worried sick.  Breaking one thermometer would be upsetting enough, but when she broke the second one, she was 'disgusted' with herself and felt like she was losing her mind.  A simple, easily forgivable accident triggered such strong words! 

Just a few hours ago, while decorating my tiny Christmas tree, I broke one of my favorite childhood ornaments.  My internal dialogue kicked in - "Oh come on!  You can't even decorate a tree properly!  How pathetic!"  Why are we so hard on ourselves?  We are all doing the best we can in this world - navigating obligations, expectations, and sometimes, malaria - and yet we still speak to ourselves more harshly than we would ever speak to others.  How do we break the cycle?   

Just for fun, here is a picture of Annette and my dad, Tom.  He was a bit younger here, but it's still sweet.  

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I Just Stopped Caring

Charleston audition was fine.  Made it to the finals.  Had to play Daphnis second part.  It was ok, but in the final round I just stopped caring.  So it was boring, and they picked a girl to play an extra round by herself.  Maybe they offered her the job, maybe not.  But this is fine, because I really didn't want the job.  I'm starting to play more like myself though.  That's all I want.  To be myself.  - Miranda, September 2006

I feel like every musician has one of these auditions at some point.  We wait months (years) for an opening in an orchestra.  We prepare the required list of orchestral excerpts.  We adjust our eating and sleeping schedules to maximize practice efficiency.  We record ourselves and spend hours replaying/critiquing what we hear.  We meditate.  We journal.  We have minor (or major) nervous breakdowns.  All to play just a few minutes in front of the audition committee.  Most people go through something similar for job interviews, but I've always found it interesting that while others are trying to 'get the job', while musicians are trying to 'WIN the job.'  The goal is winning the audition.  It's not enough to demonstrate your qualifications and be the best person for the job.  You have to win.  We are hardwired to take every audition.  To go after every spot.  The 'good' jobs are rare - You'd better take it!  Sometimes, though, an audition feels like going through the motions.  I was happy to advance to the next round for this audition, but my heart wasn't in it.  I spend months preparing, but deep down, I knew this was not the job for me.  I pushed through, took the audition, and it was all fine.  Fine doesn't win auditions.  But sometimes that's ok.  I always struggle with the inner voice that says It will be good for you.  We absolutely need to do things that push our limits - that's how we learn.  

But how do we learn to trust our instincts?  Did I take that audition out of fear?  You have to do this!  People will forget about you!  They will never call you again!  Obligation?  Jobs don't open often.  You need the money.  Insecurity?  Prove yourself!  You'll never be enough until you win a job!  I am not sure.  But after that audition, I felt like I had played like myself.  At the end of the day, that's all you can do.  Put it all out there, show them what you can do, play the music the way you feel, and hope that things fall into place.  At the end of the day, all you can be is what you are.