Introspection, Yet Again

Today I had one of the long piano sessions where I go from one composer to another as if it were a journey, feel as if I were living out the music as I play it, and do that for hours until I feel satisfied. Normally my fingers feel stubby and awkward, but lately they've been agile and altogether fine, so that impediment is gone. This time I would have liked to play longer, but it was nearly 8 p.m. and I didn't want to tax the patience of our neighbours. It's been over a year since one of them complained, but it isn't much fun to play with the consciousness that it might really be bothering someone, especially as I know how antagonizing and invasive music can be if one doesn't want to hear it. (Even though I've learned to tune it out or to listen to other music.)

In case it wasn't already evident, I'm extremely insecure about the way I play the piano. When I was little it went well enough, but later it was impossible to play without making lots of errors. I never liked it when others listened to me or when I had to play in public, because I was convinced that it was insufferably mediocre. Then I became nervous easily, which was quite as unpleasant — my fingers and hands and even legs would tremble, my concentration was shot, and it was painful to butcher the music and let everyone down. I still become nervous and trembly but it's become easier to control, and it's nice to have the opportunity to practice controlling it. On the other hand, making mistakes hasn't become easier to bear, though fortunately there are fewer of them. What has always confused me, too, is that at the same time I suspect that I can play remarkably well; so the question is why I don't — I blame myself for it, which naturally doesn't improve matters — and at other times if I'm not stupidly conceited. Compliments unsettle me except if they're understated and, as far as I can tell, justified, because they tend to make me feel even more aware of my shortcomings and to fear that I'm misleading people into having a higher opinion of my playing than they should.

But I don't regret not having practiced more when I was little. I didn't consciously need music as badly as I do now, and I think that any attempts at training precocity would have made my understanding of it shallow and egotistical. Now there is a strong motive to impel me to play as well as I can, and what does console me for falling short now is the consciousness that I like working away at it and that it might very well keep me happily busy for the rest of my life. If the piano repertoire ever seems too limited to me, there are other instruments and composition, besides which I can always mend my ignorance of music history, counterpoint, etc.

Anyway, I've realized that I blame myself for a lot of things, and that perhaps it isn't right to do that. It's just that since I was very little it has seemed to me that I was singlehandedly responsible for all my imperfections and for correcting them. Besides, whenever anyone has been mean to me I've always felt that it was my fault for not being more courageous and strong, or for putting myself in a position that invited it. That's one reason why I've become a hermit. If I keep strictly to myself and don't provoke attention then no one will be tempted to say or do anything tactless or cruel, and I won't take these things too much to heart and suffer in a way that wasn't at all intended.

Sort of à propos, I've decided not to urgently look for work any more. I keep on looking up job listings and working on stories, but most of the time I daydream and do other things, enjoyable and harmless things like playing the piano or experimenting with recipes or reading. The purgatory of guilt I've been putting myself through for the past three years hasn't brought me any job and besides it's really not the way I want to spend my life. Despite appearances, I know that I am not that lazy or self-indulgent, and deep down I've known that for a while, so it's time to stop punishing myself for sins that do not exist. Financially I'm leeching off my parents, but I think that being around for them and my siblings really compensates for it, and that I help make them happy. Usually I'm afraid of accepting favours or kindnesses because I don't think that I can reciprocate them, but in this case it feels profoundly right.