Last weekend’s horn camp in New Mexico was a whirlwind for me. Not only was the total driven distance just over a thousand miles in each direction, but I learned even more than I had thought possible; not just about what I can do to improve my music skills, but also things about myself I hadn’t quite realized, yet.

As I wrote last week, I went with the expectation of learning. I realized once I was there that my skill set had tarnished even more than I originally thought, but I’ve spent the last seven years playing music that has been a low challenge threshold. Being included with so many people with skills that exceed mine showed me exactly where I need to improve, and how much I haven’t challenged myself.

Being open to those challenges was a lot tougher than the initial commitment. While the camp is a no judgment zone, that certainly didn’t stop me from judging myself. It’s also an accelerated pace; with very little extra time, we sight read, rehearsed, attended master classes, and performed from the moment we arrived until the moment we packed up and left.

Personally, I reached a breaking point Saturday evening. Our group had already performed once as part of program of ensembles, and we had the evening to ourselves. Feeling a bit frazzled, I realized I was on an emotional edge and removed myself for a bit of a cry. I needed the pressure release; not just because I kept pushing myself to benefit in any way I could while there, but because I needed to ground myself.

Doing challenging and difficult things is exhausting, both physically and mentally. I had to check myself because I’d been beating myself up about how far behind I felt. There was a day when I would have been able to keep up much better, but that day was decades ago. I kept lamenting that I just couldn’t seem to get the hang of some of the musical pieces. I did get some time to work out a few issues, but I also knew I’d hit a wall if I kept playing; my endurance wasn’t nearly what others had. Like any other physical activity, you can’t just keep working at it without getting to a point of negative returns, so I had to accept that I couldn’t devote the time I wanted to work those things out.

I could only play to my own abilities and recognize the things I want to work on moving forward, and stop beating myself up about it.

It likely comes as no surprise that I’ve had to accept similar situations in my health journey. I used to constantly berate myself for not meeting goals that were, frankly, unachievable with my then-current set of abilities. Those were the times where I would push myself beyond failure and end up giving up. I’ve learned over time to see those signs and deal with them, but I’d become complacent and somewhat blind when dealing with such situations in other areas of my life, like music.

We have to realistically recognize where we are and what we want to do to move forward. This is true, no matter what we face.

When I first started walking, again, I worked up gradually. I started with what I could manage and challenged myself by small increments. I had no ability at all to walk four miles at once; I had to increase my strength and abilities as I was able. Now, four miles is quite achievable; then, attempting four miles would have flattened me.

While metaphorically, my musical abilities aren’t back at the walk around the yard once level, I’m not at the four miler level, either. I’m somewhere in between. I had to remind myself that if I want it bad enough, I can improve in the areas I want. I can challenge myself to do better. Last weekend showed me not only what that looks like, but how to work on getting there. I have to work with what I have right now.

I am impatient at heart, and I let my heart get in the way, looking backward at my inabilities rather than forward toward what I’d love for them to be. I’ve already proven to myself that I can be much better than I’ve given myself credit for; it’s far past time to use those same skills to improve in other areas of my life, doing things I love to do.