I thought that music would be a comfort during this time. But sadly that hasn’t been the case. I stopped playing piano after the first couple weeks of shelter-in-place. My husband has barely touched his violin. This time a year ago he was practically almost daily.
I don’t know what it is about this experience that is sucking the life out of things we used to enjoy. Maybe it’s because I struggle to get up in the morning and my day always seems to get ahead of me. Or because the kids are so bored they take any chance to disrupt whatever I’m doing. Trying to relearn how to play while being splattered with questions and joined by the cacophony of little hands bashing the keys isn’t conducive to relaxing or productive practice.
I feel like if these things really mattered to me, I would find the time. But I think that is a bit of a fallacy. Some of us can make art when we’re stressed. I learned long ago I was not one of those people. For me, writing is usually like mining with a pickaxe rather than turning on a tap. (Though editing and revising are worse. I think this is a frequent sentiment among writers).
Right now being creative feels like slamming my bare hands against bedrock until I give up exhausted. Click To Tweet(Or another one of those pesky interruptions causes me to throw up my hands as I finally run out of activation energy.)
Sometimes it feels like art is futile.
But the words of a familiar Christmas carol keep coming back to me.
And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”
This refrain has meaning every day, not just at Christmastime. Even when the world feels dark and we wonder if things will be the same again. When we wonder if that normal we long for was so good after all. Perhaps this mortal plane is not as comfortable as we once believed, and our eyes are again drawn upward to beyond the veil.
The light shines in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it. But yes it’s hard to find motivation in this time.
Oh how I love that song!!! God is indeed not dead. I’ll be singing it all night.
And yes, I can completely relate to you in this time. Creativity is so difficult when I’m stressed or anxious, and especially when I feel guilty for not ‘doing more.’ But then, I remind myself that we are in a season of grieving, and I offer myself grace to just breathe and BE. There will be time later to be productive and efficient. Today, I will just be present.
May you, too, find grace to live and breathe, moment by moment, day by day.
Shauna (your FMF neighbour in #35 🙂
The night is dark and empty,
and yonder lies the grave;
where once there had been plenty,
there’s nothing left to save
except the spark that lies within,
the hope when hope is gone,
and even though we cannot win,
we have a final song
that says that we will lift our heads
one last bloody time;
if day’s end shall find us dead,
Heaven’s bells will chime
for a will so obdurate
that it made the maudlin great.