Let Go My Ego

First of all, I hate puns. :-D

Ok. Moving on. Musicians have egos. To make matters more difficult, they have fragile egos.

And so when a band comes together, egos clash. And on a worship team, hearts often get in the way.

For a long time now, my ego had been bruised. So much to the point where what used to define me in high school was something I hid from.

I used to play the piano really well. I used to sing. I used to be able to do both at the same time.

The thing is, I still do. I just haven't done so in front of a group of people. Let alone my church family. I stopped because someone told me that I wasn't good enough.

Sigh. Musicians and their egos.

It has been a very interesting few months. My heart that loves to express itself in a creative life is aching to come out. It never occurred to me how much my heart was aching for music until I attended a choir concert at which one of my friends was performing. I sat in the middle of the concert, missing the musically dominated life I used to have. I wanted to race to the stage and sing along with them. Since then, I found myself still wanting to sing. To play. To live. To breathe.

A few years ago, during my seven year stint of not playing piano, I ran into my high school choir director. I was visiting my grandparents, and I dropped by a local Starbucks to gear myself up for another family event. My choir director and I have had an unusually close relationship. I won't go into detail, but I thought I was only important to him because of how I helped him during my Senior year. I knew what he thought of me as a person. I didn't know what he thought of me as a musician.

Giles: How have you been? Are you still playing piano?
Me: [sheepishly.] No.
Giles: [surprised and looking disappointed.] Really? Why not?
Me: I don't have the opportunity.
Giles: [more disappointed] That makes me sad. There's always an opportunity. You don't even play at church?
Me: No.
Giles: You should try. Really. You were amazing. I know I never told you, but you are a gifted musician. And I'm sad that you're not moving forward with it.
Me: Well, I...
Giles: No excuses. Get back into it. You can't stop. I won't let you. It's a part of you. You were really good.

With that we parted ways. And I wondered how in the world he would know if I still played.

That was two years ago. I don't play piano on my worship team because of Giles, but I do play because it isn't in me to stop. In the end, I hope to remember conversations that encourage me to keep going instead of the ones that tell me that what I have to offer isn't good enough. I'm not as good as I used to be, and I hope to be better.

But I know I can't get there if I don't let the ego go.