Petdad

I play the piano. Certainly not a virtuoso, but I do play quite well. Playing the piano is not something that is automatically natural in my being, or maybe it is and I just don’t know it, yet. Perhaps it is this sentiment that prevents me from playing as well as I think I should play. I play best when I am all alone. I know I do because when I am all alone there are no inhibitions. There is no fear of making a mistake simply because I know that I am the only one listening. Silly. I have however become more accustomed to playing for others but it must always be initiated by me. I will not take requests to play, at least not yet. To play at request places too much pressure that was not initiated by me. If I am going to play for anyone, I need to first decide that I will do so this way I allow myself time to process the commitment.

While this may all sound to an extent pompous, it is not. It all stems from by efforts to always play perfectly. Everything for me relates back to Perfectionism. Debilitating and sometimes Paralyzing. My ability to play the piano comes with two hours of daily practice. This is not a chore. I enjoy the complexities and intricacies of musical composition. Like an athlete, yes I need to practice.

When unable to play for whatever reason I enjoy watching performances on video, or best live. There is emotion in music. For full appreciation this emotion is to be absorbed by the listener. This is why when watching musical performances, the pianist is most always visibly emotionally moved by the piece that is being played. When I watch these performances, I am always thinking that I wish I could play as well as they do. Their ability looks like perfection to me. Perfection in my ability to play I know is never achievable as there is no such thing as Perfection. However, I know that ability to play as there master musicians is not an impossibility. Doing so, will mean more practice on and off the keyboard. Definitely something for me to strive for.

Newly published under the Musings tab is an essay titled Milestones. I started writing this short essay about five days ago but didn’t complete it until tonight because this day is truly a day of self-reflection and personal thanks. For those who are reading this now, I thank you. Never looking for anything from anybody I simply enjoy writing, for me.

…doesn’t mean you should. I have pondered this sentiment in many areas of my life. Of course I didn’t care when I was younger. Back then, if I could then I would. I think this is often what leads many of us to improper judgement or action. Maybe we should think this instead: Just because I think I can doesn’t mean that I can, safely.

I seem to be in a new phase of similar themed dreams. With many recent dreams being at a large hotel, I figured to write about one…for now. Located under the Dreams tab is the latest, Hotel.

When I tell people that I have a website where I simply write, I sometimes get asked “Do you make any money from it?” I think those who ask are somewhat puzzled when my response is No, that is not my intention.

I guess the internet these days is a viable option to make money, whatever amount that may be. For me, making money from my website has never been the intention. It never will be.

Another question I will get asked is “How many followers do you have?” Unless one is a frequent flyer of social media, of which I am not, one wouldn’t even know what a ‘follower’ is. I don’t care if no one sees my website. Sure I will sometimes point those who I know to it’s URL, but there is typically a reason for doing so.

I write for me, and anyone who likes to read. There are no goofy video clips, no commentary on what someone else said or did. None of that. This is all about me. Hmmm, that statement sounds selfish but it’s not. Think of it like a diary of personal thoughts and memories. I think of it like music in that it does no one any good if it’s not shared with others.

My nephew Sean passed away 4 years ago on November 18. No one knew this would happen, not now. But it did happen. It could happen to anyone at any time.

Newly posted in the I Remember tab is an essay titled Sean is Gone, is a short excerpt of someone special to me in more ways than one. Sean was not only my nephew, he is my sister’s child.

Seanie-boy, …everyone misses you and loves you!

Located in the I Remember tab is a newly posted essay titled Oops…We Left Without Her! The beginning portion does nothing to lead the reader toward it’s pleasant ending. It is a forever memory that brings smiles to our faces. Enjoy.

I often wonder why sometimes certain tasks are simple, and other times they are not. The task may be something that is done on a daily basis yet sometimes not executed with the same ease as on a previous day. While I write this I am reminded of a book that I recently read titled Flow, written by the Hungarian-American psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi.

Flow, as described by Csikszentmihalyi is a highly focused mental state conducive to productivity. It is good that we sometimes ponder about ideas and ideals that we may have previously pondered. It is the full-circle thing because we are brought back to the place where the thought and/or question began.

Though somewhat technical and clinical, the book helped me to understand exactly what is necessary in order for one to achieve a highly focused mental state conducive to productivity. So perhaps I have, in a sense, answered my own question that started this post in the first place.

My question has been answered, sometimes.

I have played the piano for many years. I think I’m pretty good, but my expectations are so high for myself that I always think I could, and should do better. I read music. Very rarely have I ever trusted that I could just sit down at the piano and allow my hands to simply wander over the keys and press ‘wherever’. The fear was that whatever transpired wouldn’t sound good at all.

This morning after practicing a Mozart sonata, I allowed myself to do just that. With my eyes closed, I slowly played single notes, chords, and roll-ups. Whatever sounded good at the moment, whatever sounded right, I played. It was not only cathartic, it was absolutely beautiful. I was filled with so much emotion and calmness like none other. It was purely magical.

Littermates, and always together, most always touching one another. Bonnie and Clyde. Our canine kids… they are gone. Bonnie left us earlier this evening around 5:30p. We knew something was terribly wrong when she suddenly laid down after much excitement over her (soon to be eaten) dinner and then could not get back up again. After a short time, I carried her to our bed where she spent her last 20 or so minutes of life in our arms. This before she relaxed into her forever sleep. Such a good girl.

So hard. Bonnie and Clyde were our two golden retriever canine kids and within 6 weeks of one another, they both are now forever in our hearts. Our little Bonnie-B.

We will see you later buttercup! xoxo