Baby Steps

Everyone has to start somewhere, and most of the time the place where we start is rock bottom. No writer begins their first piece in media res and does it correctly, mine was atrocious. No pianist does Chopin for their first recital, mine was "Up on the Housetop", it was two measures long and I messed up more than a few times. No person begins their journey with love as eloquently as Romeo. Most of us begin the journey not even knowing how to recognize love. I know I still can't most of the time.

So if we don't blame the newborn baby for not being able to hold its own head up, why do we get so down on ourselves when we can't do other things right away?

I had another piano recital tonight. I've been playing piano for eleven years, having recitals at least twice a year, so this would be about my twenty-second recital. The first one was "Up on the Housetop" and this one was Chopin's Prelude No.4 in E minor. I've crossed a lot of ground since then. But it's not the applause after I finish a song that is the most memorable for me about recitals, although it definitely is good to know the audience enjoyed it as much as I did. It's the beginning pianists that inspire me the most. They don't yet have their "footing" with the piano, awkwardly trudging along. They have to pause frequently and go back, take a deep breath, and jump back into it. Let me tell you, that is the hardest thing to do. But all these kids, these tiny tikes with pint-sized piano hands and big shining eyes, can brush it off and finish what they started. When they do finish, they get a roaring applause and the biggest grin stretches across their faces. This was me not too long ago, as well. We made it through.

This is something we all can learn from. We all are going to have to mosey on through and stop and start again. Your first essay is not going to have smooth transitions and perfect grammar, your first kiss will not be glamorous. My first kiss, the guy missed my mouth and kissed my nose. But he went for it again and made it. It was gloriously awkward. The first shot at love could very easily be shot down. But through it all, after every missed-kiss, we trudge on. We get back up, we finish what we started. It's a part of life.

But the great thing about failing (yes, you just read that correctly) is that there's always a chance to prove yourself again. And if you're lucky enough to mess up a lot in the beginning, the rest is smooth sailing, because there isn't anything left for you to screw up. Heck, we are all screw ups.

Screwing up is another one of those things we pretend never happens, like poop. But like poop, everyone screws up. Stephen King has a box full of every rejection letter he ever received. He'd been writing and sending stuff in since he was in high school. He didn't get published until he was already married, and his first book was a best seller. He's one of those people that screwed up so much at the start, there was nothing left. And it shows, most of his books are best sellers. He never misses anymore.

So hold your head up, you babies! (Pun intended). Let's screw up together, and then talk about our screw ups. At the very least we can make someone else laugh, at its best we can make someone feel like they're not alone.

Much love and missed-kisses
~Kat

P.S. I love the village idiot ;)