When I was little, my parents did something that I absolutely hated; they implemented ‘practice time’ as the rule for how long we were allowed to play computer games (Rebel Assault, in particular). There was a 1:1 match of time spent playing our instruments as to how long we could play a game.
While there was no way to ‘cheat’ this rule, I do recall Mark setting up a keyboard next to his computer so that he could play piano in between levels of the game he was playing. Mark was always the clever one…
At that time, it was a novelty to have a personal computer – even as an adult – yet, every Plaat child had at least one computer to call their own. Dad made sure of that, much to our delight.
From what I can remember, I had nearly a decade of music lessons during my childhood. Between piano and saxophone, I imagine that I took up a solid chunk of my parents budget. Yet, they viewed it as an investment into their children that would one day pay off. I don’t think they ever imagined their kids would sell tickets to Carnegie Hall, as much as they sincerely wanted us to have well-developed brains and musical ability.
When I was 17, I played alto saxophone in the performance band at OSU. Each week, I’d play alongside [much more] talented musicians than I was at that time. I remember the final performance we gave in Weigel Hall to a relatively-full performance hall…
Then, I stopped playing…for nearly 20 years.
Here and there, I would tinker around with instruments and even went so far as to buy a soprano saxophone in Mexico in hopes that I’d play again. After I came back to the states, it remained there with most of my joy.
Earlier this year, I enrolled Atlas in piano lessons at a local music studio. It was then that I got a true understanding of the price my parents paid for enrolling all of their children in music lessons – financially speaking, that is. $180/month for a four year-old seemed like a steep price to pay and I instantly thought of my Dad telling me “I could have had you or a Porsche”.
I also decided to take a few lessons myself, simply to blow the dust off of my brain and try to remember how to play. There’s a lot of truth in the statement ‘use it or lose it’ which I discovered as the teacher took out some of the same books she uses to teach Atlas.
I struggled to read the notes as easily as I once could. They seemed foreign and strange to me, and it touched a hard nerve in me as I fought back tears; confessing to the teacher that I was ‘rebuilding my brain’ after years of non-sobriety. She patiently guided me through the notes and gave me the encouragement I needed to continue. That was hard. Really hard. 102 days and counting. That’s also been hard. Really. Hard.
One note and day at a time, I’m taking my life back. Lately, the days have been excruciatingly difficult and I’ve found it very hard to be apart from Atlas. Piano and music have become a form of escape for me; a tool to navigate the pain.
From Marilyn Manson to Ben Folds Five, I’ve found songs that I want to play that are also a reflection of the way I feel inside.
I often tell Atlas “Give God your fears, hurts and anger. He’ll take it and make something beautiful out of it.”
God, can you take the broken pieces of my life and make something beautiful?
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