“Nothing’s ever as hard as it seems.”

I wrote that line in a song once.  A song that I play every time we have a show.  I forget, sometimes, about that tiny bit of advice I wrote myself, but it’s ironic that I listen to that song when I’m prepping for a show (especially after a long break, or a big show at a big venue in front of big amounts of people) in which I’m incredibly nervous.  Is it narcissistic to listen to your own songs?  Better, yet, to quote them to yourself?  For what it’s worth, I listen to all of my songs before a show, mostly to jog my memory so that I don’t forget the words.  Or the chords.  Or how to sing.

Back to the advice.  I suppose there are, of course, some exceptions, but nothing, really, is ever as hard as it seems.  I’ll tell RR that the first time she has a piano recital, or is up to bat at tee ball with the bases loaded, or has to give an oral report in front of class.  The amount of emotional time I spend freaking out before doing things is always overboard.  The act of doing whatever is most always a combination of a) easier than I thought it would be, and b) not worth the ulcer I’ve given myself beforehand.  It’s not to say that things aren’t hard.  Things ARE hard.  They just have to be done, and, fortunately, when you’re on the other side of them, you can look back and breathe a sigh of relief that it’s over:

Playing a show after a long hiatus.
Getting on a plane with a 5 month old, with both parents sick (that would be us).
Attending a Grandmother’s memorial in a tiny church in a tinier town.

The only constant in life is time, and there’s no stopping it.  Things you dread or look forward to are inevitable.  Tick tock.

“The pain will make you stronger.”

That’s a line from a song I wrote a few days ago.  A ballad to RR, if you will.  So, in short, nothing’s ever as hard as it seems.  And it if is, you’ll be stronger afterwards.


Posted on December 8, 2010, in everyday. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Solid advice, in my experience.

    Also, best wishes with the show, the plane travel, and the funeral. My mom and I went to my great-aunt’s funeral in a small North Carolina town a few years ago. When some random neighbor or distant relative of some sort asked my cousin’s partner who he was, the partner politely replied that he was my aunt’s long-lost son that she never knew she had, and then wandered off while the random person was still standing there looking confused. I’ve always been sort of amused by that strategy. In any case, I hope it all goes well, or at least as well as such things can.

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