Musical me.

[outlier_lynn]

With Aeire's inadvertent help, I remembered another incident in my past that had me believe I could not create music. When I was about 9 or 10, my mother moved her 20-year-old, guitar-playing boy friend into our house (I'm not sure what my dad thought of this. I know my sister didn't like it at all. His name was/is Larry Holter. He crashed one of the family cars into a street sweeter one night. I think he stay in the house ended right after that!)

Anyway, I wanted him to teach me to play the guitar. Within no time at all, he was telling me and my mother that I was tone deaf and would never, ever be able to play or sing music.

Well, his story goes in the drawer with the piano teacher's story.

I am playing music and I love it. Did you here me, I LOVE IT. (RHPS keeps creeping into my life. :)

Comments

[machineplay.livejournal.com]

I took violin, viola, cello, and piano when I was about 6, at the Bradley School of Music. My private piano teacher was named Eunice. I don't play any instruments anymore. Oh, I also took voice and flute in high school... but thought I wasn't good enough and so I quit.

I think we should have a "trashing" ritual where we write the stories we've been told on paper and throw them out. The longer I live, the more I realize people were wrong about me. What I hate is how thoroughly I bought into those wrong assessments.

I'm glad you're playing music. :) It's a wonderful feeling. My dad went through something similar where he found he could play songs on the piano by ear off the radio, even though he was under the impression that he wasn't capable of playing an instrument.

[crazed-lynn.livejournal.com]

Goodo for your Pappa!

Here's a really neat little game to play. It takes two. It's best to play with someone not connected to you by very much history. you both write your life's story. Lots of detail. Several pages. Then with the other person just listening -- no response at all -- you read your story with lots of emotion. Everything that lives as a pain today should be in that life story. Reading it with feeling so that you are reliving the horribleness of it all. then when you have gotten through it (sometimes it takes time to get through it because of small inconvienent breakdowns), read it again. And again. And again. And again.

Want to put your old dragons to rest? Just keep reading it to an intentive, but non-response person. Read it over and over and over until a breakthrough happens. And it will.

It is the most amazing thing I ever did to end the hold my childhood had on me. I don't think I ever referred to myself as the victim of child abuse again.

I wrote an essay that appears in the book Blessed Bi Spirit edited by Deb Kolodny. I started that essay with something like. "My life seems like a poorly scripted, badly acted movie." That came to me after playing the game of I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.

The truth will set you free once you figure out the truth. :)