"I need to write, I must write, it really is time I wrote"... At least it's only been three weeks.
After yet another long Bank Holiday weekend (what else are weekends in May for anyway?), I actually find myself with a lot of work ahead of me: not only do I have three busy working weekends singing ahead of me, but also have a not inconsiderable amount of writing to do. It seems that somewhere along the line, I became a professional writer without realising it. This will be the third time this year that I'll be responsible for the programme notes that accompany the termly concerts laid on by the Cathedral Choir, and I've also been engaged to collect the texts for this year's CD liner. Not only that, but I'm also going to be typesetting chorale tunes for the orders of service for Trinity term's main event, a reconstruction of Lutheran Vespers, which will include two Bach Cantatas, accompanied by string band. This is all on top of the weekly services, preparing for Saturday concerts (including a Messiah) running three weeks in a row, prepping solos for the Cantatas and looking for a new job... And I don't just mean a part time one here. Of course, the final draft of the notes will be up here, but hopefully before the concert this time...
All in all, this has been a pretty weird three weeks since last I sat to write. Being told how beautiful my self-expression is never seems to sit right with me (although I accept this graciously), as it's always felt like hard work... But hard work that's obviously paying off. It's often not about simplicity, more about being absolutely and critically accurate to how I feel, which is not a something that comes readily that often. As much as I never believe the hype about anybody else, I certainly don't believe any hype about myself, so I don't get tripped into getting too confident and making mistakes that could have been otherwise easily avoided. Getting used to new routines and rhythms (and not just my own) is never what I'd class as easy, especially as I really, imperatively, desperately need to eradicate some personal bad habits that have become so ingrained of late that the people (think choral scholars, &c) whom I have only recently met might even call characteristic, defining. The more I think about it, the more obvious it seems to me that there are two matters at the heart of it, one being a matter of faith and the other being a matter of punishment.
Faith comes and goes at the best of times, but there's always been one thing I've never been able to commit to believing in, and that's me. It's not really a massive surprise to me, and probably not to you, trying to keep the faith where I am concerned has always been a struggle - I don't really think it's worth it most of the time. My faith in those around me, on the other hand, has always been relatively secure. This might explain my relative intensity (which burns forever, of course) in even simple relational matters, as I seem to pour a lot of reliability into people simply because I am so loath to believe in myself. Dreadful, I know. I've only just began to get a hold on how intimidating this must seem as well; better late than never, I suppose.
Punishment? Is that with or without sin? Usually without. In what is most likely to be a byproduct of not having any faith, I am always the first to punish myself. Quick to decry my abilities as a singer, player, writer, cook, or just as a human being in general, and it is this that has been at the heart of many problems over the years. Decades (yes, really) spent telling myself that I do not deserve to succeed, that I don't even have the right to try have left parts of me bitter and empty. It has kept me away from jobs, choirs, orchestras, relationships and ultimately, happiness. I guess I started blaming myself for everything all those years ago in a move to avoid conflict; arguments are often easily solved once a culprit, a scapegoat can be identified. It's an odd tactic really, but it's been surprisingly effective for quite a while. Shutting down my ability to take chances as a way of avoiding failure has been how I have lived my life for too long.
It is time to find another way.
This isn't going to default into some witless pep talk, don't worry. For saying I have a weak hold on believing in myself, I have even less belief in those. Like I said last time, I've had enough with self-destruction as a life choice. It's not really rewarding, I'm sorry. I've been telling people recently that I need to rewire my head: I don't need anything new, just to rearrange what's already here... If you can stretch to that metaphor. Rather than find a new identity, to get any more pieces, it's more to fit everything back into place (and give away the last piece as well). Being introduced to the concept that it's alright to have faith in myself and take that plunge, that my self-belief is in fact a necessary part of having faith in somebody else is new and unfamiliar. It's not unwelcome... It's just I'm not remotely used to it. With any luck, I'll be able to rectify a lot of the damage that I did to myself over the last year to eighteen months, famously documented. I've always considered my personality to be more gestalt than anything or anyone else, that I'm almost as many different things as there are different people; many reflections of the same face. If I can do this final push to unify my often conflicting personas, then maybe I can actually acknowledge the strength that other people recognise and praise me for. All sorts of things I would never even begin to imagine about myself have been uncovered this weekend gone as well. Maybe I can actually grow up a little on the way. Maybe I can dare to succeed.
I chose not to get too bogged down in how much of an idiot I am to myself. The brief recollection above is enough, this is a different mission after all. The past speaks for itself, and I have no cause to torture myself any longer. I'm preparing a serious way out of Truro as well, in what is as big a shock to you as it is to me. The truth is... I'm beginning to understand that while I may not have a definite five or ten year plan yet, I don't think that life in Truro can serve that. Things are changing, and fast as well. I'm very aware that I have to commit to this for myself though, as easy as it would be to do it for someone else. To be perfectly honest, that's still the strangest bit really... But this has to be about me, or I really am doomed.
Tune in next time though, where I talk about something else entirely, and might even cut some pictures in. How exciting.
Leave Truro? Noooo, Peb!
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