My life has changed. The last couple weeks have been reminders of that simple truth.
Although I still find myself spooked, at times, about whether or not I can do something, I’ve found that if I try, I often find that many of the limitations I imagined were simply that: imagined.
Last Sunday was special day for me, personally; a couple years ago, I took up playing french horn, again, and now I’m part of a small community orchestra. Saturday was dress rehearsal. Sunday was the concert.
Not only did the concert go well, but I spent a fair amount of time before and after the concert, setting up and breaking down at the venue where we performed. I simply could not have helped a few years ago; I may not have had the endurance to just get through the concert itself. I certainly didn’t have the self-confidence to get through a concert without being a nervous wreck; this was my second concert after over thirty years of not playing.
The View from The First Tier
A few weeks back, friends of ours asked us to join them for an orchestra performance; since I’ve never attended an orchestra concert as a spectator, the idea of going excited me — the orchestra in question is a professional group, performing in a large venue in the metro close to us.
I admit that after we were asked, I panicked a little bit. What if we had to park far away? What if the venue wasn’t very accessible for me? I may be better at walking, but I still have physical limitations, and I fear pushing them. One of my knees locks at inopportune and unpredictable times, and I’ve been quite fortunate that it hasn’t happened to me when I’ve been out and about. It stays in the back of my mind that I might hurt myself, somehow, and end up with a knee replacement before I plan on having one.
I almost made apologies so I wouldn’t be put in a tough situation that I wasn’t sure I could handle. Almost. I admit that I am self-conscious enough about my physical limitations that I am quite sensitive about holding others back or asking them to change anything they might normally do. And let’s face it: that’s not something most people have to think about.
But I sucked it up and went, and I’m very pleased I did. Parking wasn’t an issue. There were flights of stairs, but I made it up and down them. I did compromise and take the elevator when we found we needed to be up one level higher than where we thought, but I certainly wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t a matter of asking anyone to compromise. We were seated in an upper tier with absolutely perfect seats (BONUS: my butt fit just fine!), and the concert was absolutely marvelous.
These are things that had I chosen to limit myself, I would have missed out on understanding just how much my life has changed for the better. No one cares, in my little community orchestra, that I’ve dealt with disabling myself from excess weight. No, instead, I’ve gotten the chance to feed that part of me that enjoys music so very much. Had I not gone to the concert, I would have missed the opportunity to enjoy something beautiful with friends.
Two orchestra concerts within a few days of each other! And I’ve been asked to another this Sunday afternoon. Believe me, I don’t normally experience this much culture over the course of a decade, let alone within one week! But this has been a fantastic experience, and I may well go for that third opportunity (with yet a different orchestra!).
My world used to be so much smaller. Don’t get me wrong: I have failed in the past. I have disappointed myself to the point that I’ve been disgusted and depressed. I have pushed only to have either been forced to give up, or given up of my own choice.
Choosing to live a small life limits me, and I am the one who pays the price. Taking flight may always bring the risk of failure, but I am constantly surprised at how different things can be when I choose to try.