And Now for My Mountain Top Post...

The human spirit really is indomitable.  It does not want to be in the depths.  It fights to buoy itself up, to break through the surface and take a cleansing breath.  There may be moments when we are drinking in mouthfuls of salty water but inevitably (for most of us), we surface.  That is where I'm at today.  At the surface, floating around and enjoying the waves.


Life at the Showalter house is good.  Sometimes I worry that it is too good.  Sometimes I feel guilty about how happy I am, content.  A lot of times it makes me feel as though - even though nothing horrible has happened - I'm waiting for that old proverbial "other" shoe to drop.  Or I guess in this case, I'm waiting for the first shoe.  


At one point in high school I remember lamenting over the fact that I was in a perpetual state of stress.  I was always stressed.  A close friend said to me, "Lisa, you don't know how to function without stress.  If there wasn't anything to stress you out, you would create it."  Ouch.  I wondered if it could be true.  I didn't want to be that person who is just "so busy" and has so much to do and never has time to slow down and enjoy life.  I've held on to the memory of my friend's words and have tried to consciously live in a way that fights this culture's celebration of busy and overworked.  I've not always succeeded.  (I simply don't manage stress well.  I'd love to figure out how to handle things better.  And it's only in the last few years that "no" became a part of my vocabulary.)  But for the last year and a half, I've been slowly learning how to pull it off.


And today I can exclaim contentment.


For the first time in my adult life I am focusing entirely on my chosen vocation: being a piano teacher.  When I began teaching, I was working a full time job as well.  Then I went back to college full time.  After college I juggled teaching with working for my father's business.  From there I transitioned into working at a church.  So here I am, finally, doing one thing - and a thing that I really love.  For a time I felt like I wasn't reaching my potential somehow by only teaching piano.  But it has felt so great, this last year especially, being able to really focus in on teaching, that it's sinking in that this is indeed what I should be doing.  This is enough.  


It is true that I am never going to become wealthy teaching piano (I think this  may be the source of the aforementioned guilt) but I am able to supplement Brian's income as well as take care of this household that I love so dearly without running myself ragged.  Maybe we don't have oodles of excess cash laying around.  But we can pay our bills, take a nice vacation each year, and still have time to enjoy each other's company in reasonably pleasant surroundings.  We will not be sending in our entry forms to the rat race any time soon.  


I will continue to battle stress all of my life, but I am not going to seek it.  Instead I will seek simplicity and peace, even if they are, at times, out of my reach.  For now, I will share with you pictures of my favorite place on earth.  My backyard, the place where I sit and I "consider the lilies of the field."

Where I Park My Tookus

My Sweet Goldfinches

"Pink Lisa" Flowers From a Student

Not Only the Birds Get Thirsty

Many Happy Fires Have Been Held on the Lower Level

This Would Not Be My Blog without a Reggie Picture!  Hoping that you are finding your own places to relax, find peace, and find guilt-free enjoyment.

A Thursday Kind of a Blog

After two fantastic long weekends with first my family, and then Brian's, with hosting a dinner party mixed into the middle of it, I completely fell apart this week.  Exhaustion took over and I wandered around like a zombie trying to function.  Then yesterday I got my hair cut and that, evidently, was the last straw.  When I got home I went to sleep.  And I slept.  A whole bunch.

But today is Thursday and, while not terribly interesting, here is what the day looked like:

• I'm still waiting for Doreen the dove to hatch her babies.  It should be happening any minute.  She is completely faithful.  She often gives me hateful looks while I'm watering my plants out front though. 
• I gave several piano lessons.  They were delightful.  My favorite conversation from the lessons went thusly: Me - How was your week? Student - Stressful.  My sister just got home from Belgium and I forgot that she hates me.  
• My parents popped in while I was giving lessons and were kind enough to wait around while I finished up my lessons.  Then they took me to the fair.  They paid my entrance fee.  They bought me lunch.  Clearly, I am still seven years old.  And they let me drag them through every single animal barn.  I loved every second.
• I came home and decided I needed to learn how to play the guitar.  I have done many awkward things with my hands in my piano playing career but I have never done anything as awkward as trying to play a C chord on the guitar.  And I have felt pain while playing the piano but at least the surface of the piano keys never feels like trying to make music on a cheese slicer.  Those strings are a bit ouchy. 
• Currently, the dog is sleeping on the living room rug, Brian is sleeping on the couch "watching" a Cubs game, and I'm checking in with ya'll. 
• Tomorrow - a morning walk and some garage saling with a friend.  Here's hoping your summer is finding you enjoying some easy living as well.

Last Lesson

It was a beautiful day for our last piano lesson, Nadia and I.  The sun was shining, the windows open: it was as if the heavens were blessing this last meeting between the two of us.

Nadia came to me as a young girl, she must have been in the fourth or fifth grade.  I had taught her older sister some years before and I was aware that their mother had passed away from cancer recently.  I wasn't sure what to expect.  Would she be fragile and shy, would I need to handle her with kid gloves?  But she came with enthusiasm for learning the piano and an outgoing, sweet, and funny personality.  And we had so many good times together as I watched her develop into a wonderful pianist and a delightful young woman.

I knew today was coming.  This wasn't one of those times where it hits me like a punch in the gut.  She graduated from highschool this spring, and this is an inevitable ending - sad though it may be.  But she gave me the beautiful gift of seeing this thing - piano lessons - through to the end.  It wasn't always easy.  There were plenty of weeks she struggled with practice or didn't make it to a lesson.  We shared the disappointments of poor performances and slow progress at times.  But we also marveled at her increasing ability, her love of music, and those times when her performances just shined.  I loved how inquisitive she is, about music and life.  We laughed A LOT in our lessons.  She also gave me one of those moments that makes me so thrilled to be a piano teacher this spring: she played me a song she had composed.  And it was enchanting - a sweet, beautiful piece of music. 

But on this gorgeous June day, at Nadia's last lesson, we also had the chance to sit and talk to each other - something that normally just can't happen in a half hour lesson.  I wanted to encourage her to continue playing, and to know what she had planned next.  And with the lesson done, we could sit and talk like two friends, without the barrier of the teacher student dynamic - another great gift to me.  She doesn't know what is in store for her next.  And in so many ways neither do I.  I love teaching piano and I know I'm going to continue to do it.  But I also have this feeling that there is something else too.  I just don't know what.  We both had a sense that we are waiting to see what God has in store for us - as if we are both sonatas waiting for the composer to finish the next movement.

Nadia has probably taught me as much as I've taught her, as do most of my students.  I can't wait to see where she goes in life.  This was a good ending, both sad and happy.  As she rose from the piano bench to leave we hugged.  Then we hugged again.  The two of us - unfinished compositions that we are.

That Thing I Do

Every time I lose a piano student it feels like a punch in the gut.  It hurts.  I mourn and grieve.  I question my teaching abilities.  I wonder if there is more I could have done.  I feel like a total loser.

I go through this even when I sense it coming (because I can often feel it heading down the pike).  I experience the grief even when I know that the time is right for a student to quit and that it will be best for the student and myself.  I even mourn a little when it is a student that I never really "clicked" with or one that never did any work (making lesson time torture for both of us more than likely). 

So when, at the beginning of the week, I received a call from a mother of two students to inform me that they would be discontinuing lessons at the end of February (for reasons I totally understood), I found myself facing that familiar mixture of disappointment and regret again. 

I rarely talk about piano lessons in this blog.  Not because there isn't a wealth of material - because WOW! - there is a lot of good stuff there.  Not only are my students hilarious, but I continually learn so much through them.  But somehow it feels as though there is some unspoken teacher/student confidentiality vow that I have taken.  I don't ever want a student to feel as though they are the butt of a joke or are being violated in any way.  And I guess what happens at our lessons feels a bit private and maybe even a little sacred to me.

I have the privilege of meeting one-on-one with children and young adults once a week.  And some of these students I see once a week for six or more years!  We build a relationship, a trust that I take very seriously.  Some students open up to me at the first lesson but some relationships I have to coax and nurture and build.  I made a decision long ago that regardless of a student's performance at the piano, I was going to build a relationship with the person who comes to lessons each week. 

Because each student is a person:

• who is good at some things and not as good at others,
• who has passions and hobbies - even if it's not piano,
• who experiences angst and drama at school and occasionally gets their feelings hurt,
• who has tests to study for and lines to memorize for the school play,
• who has a beloved pet that just died,
• who is excited about a sleepover or cousins coming to visit,
• who has dreams of someday becoming something great. 

How narrow it is to only view them through the lens of the piano.  If I only viewed them through that lens I could potentially end up really disliking a student who is a delightful person.  So I try.  I try to get to know them all and value them for who they are.  Sometimes I fail and I never quite make that connection.  (And granted, I only have a few minutes a week which isn't super conducive to developing really deep feelings.)  Sometimes I am just not the right teacher for a particular student.  But I really hope that they can feel that I care.  I think they do.  I have even had a few students break down in tears when they told me they were going to quit.  Which then makes me cry and really, it's a big mess. 

Perhaps that is why it always hurts when it's time to say goodbye.  Maybe if I took a more clinical approach, more professional even, I could separate myself from the heartache.  I don't know if I want to.  I don't know if I would enjoy what I do as much without the richness of those relationships. 

And then, with perfect timing, a new student came to meet me at the end of this week.  One that will leave me eventually as they all do - but one that I think I will love working with.  I was reminded that there is a constant cycle to this job of mine, and the sting from earlier in the week lessened. 

The Student Becomes the Teacher

A lesson learned on St. Patrick's Day:

Do not purchase tempting St. Patty's Day cupcakes and cookies, promise your first-grade piano student that he can have one at the end of his piano lesson, and then expect that he will focus on anything other than his future cupcake during his piano lesson.  

This normally stellar and cooperative student suddenly became so weak with starvation that he could not perform very simple tasks.  

Me: "Would you like to play another rhythm game?" (Normally a big hit.)
Student: "Not today"

Me: "Let's play through this song again and see if we can get it perfect."
Student: "I would, but I'm just so hungry."

Me: "Are you ready for flashcards?" (Normally met with enthusiasm.)
Student: *Heavy Sigh* "Do we have to?"

*Note to student...the lesson will last a half hour no matter what activities we use to fill up this time slot.

Me: "Okay, we're all done!"
Student: (Bolting from the piano) "Thank goodness, I'm starving."

He's absolutely adorable.  And a wonderful piano student!  I was just highly amused that he taught this experienced piano teacher (who thought she had piano students completely figured out) that she still has a thing or two to learn about child pyschology.

Baby Come Back

It is just shocking to me that I haven't blogged since May 13! And I have a list of blogs just waiting to be written. Why haven't I blogged? Let's see...

1. Piano Recital - Held on May 16 for my piano students. A lot of work but a great day. And I had the brilliant idea that I should prepare a piano piece also for the recital, serving to make it an even more nerve-wracking day.
2. London Calling - A week long trip to England with my great travel companion, Heather.
3. Blues Fest - One weekend spent in Chicago with my sister and her family, sitting in the park, listening to Blues, having an awesome time.
4. Pork Tastes Good - One week spent pig-sitting a baby pot-belly pig, which Brian fell head-over-heels in love with.
5. Cubs Game - The next weekend, also in Chicago, attending a stellar Cubs game.
6. Preach it Sister - I prepared, and preached, my second sermon on June 28. All my creative writing juices went to that project.
7. Breathe and Be Filled - A week long trip to Columbus, OH with 12 teenagers to attend the Mennonite Church USA biennial convention. I breathed. I was filled. It was great.

I think things should settle down a little bit now. But it has been a GOOD 1.5 months since my last blog.
Except today I have to go to the dentist again. Hopefully another angry blog will not have to follow. Ugh.