This weekend, I’m heading to the ultimate throwback. Yes, people, I’m going to Band Camp.

Okay, not really band camp; more precisely, horn camp. I’m driving out to New Mexico with one of my dearest friends from forever — and a newer friend — and we’ll spend a weekend making music, learning, and probably laughing a lot, while playing the instrument we all love: French horn. It’s a rural, rustic setting, and a camp where young musicians as well as us more fermented folk (sort of like fine wine!) will learn from clinicians and then have a final concert in a very unique setting. I haven’t been there before, but my friend has.

To say I’m excited is an understatement, although I have a little apprehension about the drive out. (By the time you read this, we’ll likely already be in New Mexico and on our way to our final destination, or already there.) I am also nervous and excited about the experience.

The one and only time I ever got the chance to attend band camp was when I was either a freshman or sophomore in high school. I was young, cocky, and talented. I got a scholarship to go. I had a blast while I was there, but I was raw material, too. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I was wildly devoted to playing, but not necessarily to learning.

This coming experience is nearly the exact opposite. I absolutely know what I don’t know. I am open to whatever learning I can glean at my age. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been a hotshot player; I got knocked down a few pegs when I moved to Arkansas and thrown in with people who were better than I was. I had rise to the challenges and take my lumps. And really, that sort of thing, taken in the right light, makes people better musicians. And better humans, too.

It’s about teamwork, much like team sports teach. Especially in horn sections, blending sound and listening to pitch is especially important. Knowing what sort of sound to produce — dark, rich, and full as opposed to brassy, for instance — is key. It’s a practice in cooperation and respect for your fellow players, even when warming up; the grounded players will do proper warmups while the hotshots play solos that aren’t currently part of the repertoire. (I know. I did this as a young player.) Because really, there’s a time to stand out, and a time to make your contribution to a team effort as best you can.

In many ways, my weight loss journey has been similar. My first bravado effort, I was very much the cocky hotshot who lost 140 pounds… and then got knocked down a few notches when I regained all my weight and more. Going through that process and learning some humility about weight loss has been… instrumental. 😉 Regardless of what I hope to accomplish, paying attention so I can improve is a much preferred experience to deluding myself into thinking I already know everything I need to know. If the focus is to improve, ego needs to get out of the way.

You would think that health journeys are a solo effort, but they’re really not. I have taken this journey with countless people along with me. I’ve benefited from the perspective and learning of others, and hopefully, returned the favor and encouraged others along the way. When we learn from each other, all of us benefit.