Hell Week - Open Dress

Picture this: eighteen singers, a lovely parlor Steinway grand piano, the harp is in place and in tune (for the moment), the flute is ready - low and whispy like a spirit flute, and 40 of our nearest and dearest friends alltogether in the living room of our very dearest (perhaps soon to be ex-) friend. It's just a run-through. What could happen? Lots of things could happen... and maybe they won't.... so what am I worried about. Opening night jitters? There's a lot that could go wrong this week AND everything is exactly as it should be. (remember what I said: "there are no wrong notes, only differences of interpretation.")

Here is the lesson of trust:
Trust the music.
Trust the performers.
Trust the conductor.
Trust the space.
Trust the music to the performers, the conductor and the space.
Trust the audience.
Trust myself.
To trust the music is to honor the performers and the conductor and the audience
....and myself.

The days of doing all this to honor The Patron - be it the King or the Philanthropist or the Sponsor-with-naming-rights or the Academic Review Committee - those days are over. This is just about being in the music.

Here's a sound-file for you: Let Evening Come
poem by Jane Kenyon, used with permission Graywolf Press.