Unfinished on Purpose

Just start

Faith in unfinished work 

 

 

“Are you finished?” 

 

There is high value placed on “finishing” or “completing”.  Look at graduation parties, houses finished, puzzles done.  Satisfaction in closing a door or something “wrapped up.”  But really, life is not finished.  As soon as I realize something might be starting, I rush to finish the last thing. Hmmm.  Because I am a work in progress.  I am messy and creative and slowing growing.  We all are.   

 

I Just heard an inspiring comment on believing in unfinished work.  I am writing this book.  It has been full of starts and stops.  Some of you know what I mean.  I have spent a lifetime creating dances for young dancers and for adults.  My dances are different  now.  My body is different.  She holds the music in a different way.  So she is new.  A beginner. 

 

Dancing is in your bones, as my mom would say.  It is my heart and soul.  As a child I enjoyed dance classes.  As a teen I was determined to improve.  As an adult I enjoy dancing at home, by myself.  Childhood dance classes had some wonderful things and some shameful and harmful things.  Like life in general. 

 

I can start again.  I can find my way to a new chapter in my dancing.  Yet, I am finding it difficult to untangle myself from my old dances of my past.  Maybe you can relate to this?  This concept of your past haunting and inhibiting your expression of who you are now?  Can I remember the beautiful parts of my earlier days of dancing?  Can I find ways to bring a new music?  Can I offer a new, fresh dance? 

 

What is it like?  To live and follow a desire bubbling up in our hearts?  Immediately my responsible brain says, “That’s silly.”  or “You can’t do that.”  What if my heart is longing for ballet or tap dancing?  Just for the fun of it?  Can we just do things?  Can we just “goof around” with dance and art and music and whatever we are drawn to?  When were we told that lessons are required to enjoy things?  Interesting. 

 

I remember being shocked when I heard that famous piano players had not studied with teachers?  What? Self taught?!  Wow.  What if there is a whole world open to us as “untrained” or “experimental”.  What if we can scoop fun and beauty with just trying?  What areas of life are open to us that we just assumed were reserved for “experts”. 

 

Think of children who joyfully walk up to a piano and start plunking out a tune?  How about youngsters who will create painting after painting for the pure joy of it?  Is there something you always wanted to try?  I have an old, beautiful piano and a modern, sleek keyboard.  I plunk out a tune here and there.  I just realized I am waiting for piano lessons.  Why don’t I  play now? 

 

I walk to my old upright piano and cleared the treasures off her front shelf. When I open the heavy wooden key cover, the shiny keys seem to smile at me.  Like a row of teeth, the ivory keys were ready to chew! I lined up my fingers and the keys and pressed hard as if I had to squeeze out the music.   The chord erupted into a majestic “ta-dah” that filled the room.  The touch of these keys burst open my wall of resistance.  I played chords.  I discovered a melody deep from within my memory.  I played this on three different octaves.  I was playing!  I smiled and laughed.  IT was pure delight!  Enjoyment just for myself.  No pressure.  No audience.  This was nourishing me.  I felt energized. This what what I was longing for.  I gave myself permission to play my piano my own way.  It was fun. 

 

How wonderful.  I have discovered I can enjoy playing around on my piano.  What was my resistance about?  Somehow I thought I should  

learn a song my family could sing to.  Maybe a Christmas carol or Happy Birthday?  Yet, I was not starting.  The starting is the hard part.  I have read that if you put a brick in front of the tires of a train, it cannot start.  But once it gets going it can crash through a wall.  Did I think I needed a purpose?  To show something to someone?  Some kind of practical, responsible goal to justify my time and effort?  This rings true.  Have I felt this in other areas of my life?  My time spent needs to result in some form of performance?  Excellence?  Yet I have danced all my life without need of a recital. 

 

Are there some things in us that are just so much a part of us that they pour out?  Without training or effort?  Are they not as important because I have not trained and strained to make progress?  Where have I decided that the outcome did not justify the means?  Is this why I have difficulty scheduling fun?  My fun becomes my work? 

 

What if i trusted that the effort was the benefit?  What if showing up for myself was the goal?  Trusting the outcome?  Somehow showing up to start something feels a little scary.  There is a vulnerable quality to starting.  Like a tender shoot just coming out of the ground.  A tender shoot that needs protection from the elements.  Gentle care.  Encouragement.  Could it be that we need to practice this tending for ourselves?  Maybe it feels more natural to encourage people around us?  Somehow starting something just for my own enjoyment feels a little selfish.  A little smug, somehow.  But what if this small enjoyment brings energy and delight beyond the time spent doing it?  What if planning for it and remembering it brings benefits?  I just stepped up to my keyboard.  My piano lesson book was sitting there.  My earbuds are not the correct size, so I need to invest in a headset.  I was able to plunk out “Amazing Grace”.  Seems very appropriate. 

 

I feel very brave to explore playing the piano at 60 ½ yrs young.  This fits my upcoming week of starting my first class to be trained as a chaplain.  Being middle age and starting new things is exciting and a little wobbly.    My Grandchildren are a great motivation for me to stay young! And I am finding out how beautiful it is to walk in my lane as who I really am.  I can let go of pushing and trying.  Now I see my days unfolding and I have eyes to see blessings and beauty.  Looking up instead of fueling a fire that was burning me everywhere I turned.  A fire of critical, negative thoughts that caused me to behave in ways I could not see were harming me.  I thought these behaviors were in my best interest, but they were pulling me down and draining my energy. 

 

I am looking forward to my new chapter of life.  Trying new things and being okay with not doing them well.  Just enjoying the process.  I am becoming more alive than I ever imagined. 

 

The best is yet to come.