I'm feeling a bit blue today. For reasons I cannot explain, having a glass of red wine sounded really, really good. [sigh] And, of course, I started thinking these crazy-ass thoughts on my way home from a meeting. Having trouble figuring that one out. Life in general is pretty good, but it was a tough week at work and I'm not feeling very motivated to go for a run or to do homework or anything else. I'm also feeling very, very judgemental and a bit resentful this evening, so perhaps sitting at home, playing some piano, watching Tivo and blogging is the best place for me.

I have been playing a bit of piano here and there, though, and have decided I'm going to scale back my music goals for the time being. I want to learn some new music, but the pieces I'm drawn to are ungodly difficult. I have no doubt I can learn these pieces (several I've worked on from time to time) but they're each the sort of piece I have to learn painstakingly and often one hand at a time.

So I've decided to put them aside and in the meantime I picked up two books of "easier pieces: Debussy's "Children's Corner" and Schumann's "Kinderszenen" (Scenes from Childhood). The irony of both of these pieces is that they're each filled with several pieces that, while not fiendishly difficult, are still very challenging in one way or another. I think both sets were originally designed as pieces for students to learn some facet of piano playing (an etude, if you will) but each little piece is a gem in its own right - some whimsical, some thoughtful, others humorous.

I heard a concert pianist play the Schumann set once, many years ago, and it was lovely to hear these beautiful little songs played so exquisitely. I can't hope to match that quality, of course, but I think I'm more likely to learn and play these well than I am to even learn the notes for the harder pieces, particularly in the time I have to devote to them.

I think, in so many ways, I want to be the best at everything I try and if I can't be the best I just stop doing whatever it is. With piano, though, quitting isn't really an option. I'm not a fabulous pianist; I'm not even great. Good is pushing it, even. But I love it, and I play because I love it.

Still, I often equate "playing hard pieces" to "being good at piano." And of course, my brain wants me to "be good" because that delivers self worth. Or something approaching self worth. Ego, perhaps. I don't know. I think the point is that I need to redefine my concept of "good at the piano." Perhaps it should involve, at least in part, playing a piece accurately, up to tempo and with some semblance of musicality. Dynamics maybe. (What a concept!)

Anyway, so despite my hopelessly unrealistic need to be "the best" all the time and at everything I do, in this case I need to (continually, ad nauseum) remind myself why I play and what my objectives are in even having a piano: to nourish my soul and reconnect regularly with that part of myself that only music can reach.

If I were entirely truthful, I'd also mention that I often seek approval from others; I want them to think I'm talented or gifted or "cool" or amazing or fill_in_favorable_adjective_here. Given the return on my investment in this case, I think, I need to embrace my mediocrity and forget about whether others are even interested in my musical abilities. Chances are, they couldn't care less.