Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save;

They just stand there shining.

~Anne Lamott

 

 

What a magnificent analogy! It’s almost comical to imagine a lighthouse running all over an island, yet it’s so easy to find myself wanting to be enough for someone else. Not so much to save them, but in an effort to seemingly save myself.

 

As part of my daily reflections and readings, I receive meditations by Henri Nouwen. I’m hooked. His thoughts and words are so accessible and bring clarity to otherwise obscure spiritual ideas. I don’t quite remember if this particular meditation came on Saturday or Sunday, but it was EXACTLY what I needed. Nouwen mentioned that we are all sent here by God (feel free to insert what feels most comfortable for your beliefs…Spirit, Divine, Universe, Yahweh, etc.). I read that over and over again trying to wrap my head around this shift in personal perspective. I was sent here to fulfill a God’s plan, a plan greater than my little ego can diminish and stomp on. I am on purpose. I wasn’t sent here to chase someone else down and figure out what I’m called to do. It’s already within me. The light is already there. I don’t have to go find the boats, if you will, for my light to shine. I am on purpose.

 

I’m now backing up to Friday and my incredible session with my Master Teacher. She dropped this “well, of course” message from another one of my teachers, “Everything we do is for love.” We are all constantly seeking love and affirmation, whether we consciously know it or not. Interestingly enough, we are seeking outside of ourselves instead of going within. We’re chasing the boats again instead of letting our light shine.

 

Both of these concepts came fervently into play at my concert on Sunday. Although I was still nervous, the nerves weren’t filled with seeking. The nerves contained excitement and energy. I continually reminded myself that I have been sent here on purpose and that I’m doing this for love…loving my ability to play the piano and to speak the music of a composer. My responsibility was to love my talent and to love the incredible, awesome responsibility of communicating and connecting through music.

 

The last piece of the concert was the Beethoven Cello and Piano Sonata in A Major. It’s a pretty hefty piece of music and allows for vulnerability of “exposed” sections for each player as well as intimacy of communication between the cello and piano. It certainly wasn’t a flawless performance, but it was one of connection, communication, vulnerability and passion. As I reflected later on in the evening, I allowed myself to savor the depth of connection and fulfillment I felt with the music through my performance. It wasn’t about anybody else’s response (which were very positive and gracious), but a deep sense of fulfillment that I spoke what was within me, above and beyond the notes on the page. I still occasionally struggle with allowing myself to feel that connection. It was (and still is) overwhelming…in a very beautiful way. I didn’t chase the boats…I stood there shining. And this is my deep passion in living…to stand there shining.