5 Chords and the Half-Truth?

Day 4: Spend an hour practicing a forsaken talent.

Forget about taking time to wow people. Wow yourself. Fine, go ahead and wow others as well.

When my mom was in town a week or so ago, we spent one cold dark evening hibernating in my bedroom. It was the first time in my life I ever, for two fleeting seconds, saw what my mom could look like as a friend instead of a parent. She oddly resembled a roommate as she was chilling on my bed and I was on the floor folding laundry.

She gazed around my room and though clothes and a coat draped over it, she noticed my guitar stashed in a corner. She asked how frequently I played. I hmm and uh huh’d around the issue a little.

Still when your mama asks you to play that song you played for her four years earlier, in a moment when you know you wowed her, no matter how obliging or un-obliging you are, you pick the clothes off piece by piece and reveal the instrument you know you should be better at than you are.

I have to confess initially I started a bit gun shy. My voice is rough and raspy. My fingers have gotten so clumsy on both a piano and guitar. To tell you the truth, it has been quite awhile since I’ve considered music a talent of mine. I’ve been rusty for way too long and I feel acutely the loss of something I once had quite developed.

Yet somewhere in between the first “hallelujah” and the last “baby, I’m falling away,” it had become fun for me. As I finished, I opened my eyes.

I became so wrapped up in the music, I went into auto mode. My world. A world where I’m not onstage and I could care less about work, boys, or anything else.

A decent performer finds this place. The place where nerves disappear and it’s about you and the instrument.

So when I came to, I was shocked to see my mom just looking at me. I saw her mouth open to say something and shamefully I thought, “oh dear. Here it comes.”

I was just as shocked when she declared, “Elizabeth, you should try out for American Idol,” matter of factly.

I laughed for many reasons. I’m too old for one. And somehow in the moment, I thought, I’m one of those crappy singers whose parents tell them they’re actually good. Oh shoot.

Aside from all of my insecurities, this was huge for two reasons. My mother is someone who I very much look up to musically. She’s older now and her voice has lost the unblemished, much practiced, control of days past. But I know her ear is still relatively good. (Mary, stop giggling.)

It was by falling asleep to her playing the piano or listening to my dad and her play their guitars outside on the back patio on summer evenings I know she is more than qualified to comment.

Secondly, my mother spent a lifetime withholding compliments. I have to believe there were times she was not in competition with us and genuinely felt proud of our mediocre accomplishments. Still sitting on my bed that night, I swear I heard my mom allude to my being good at something more than scouring a toilet.

She doesn’t know it. But I have picked up that guitar nearly every day since that night, if only for ten minutes. And right now I’m smiling.

Last Saturday I decided my repertoire could use some dusting off and updating. I sat for nearly four hours and practiced until my fingers were dirty from oxidizing against the steel strings. I picked out two songs from my library and put in the hours to learn them both.

I once had a college professor announce if we would go home every night and merely re-read the notes we had taken in class that day, every day we had class, we would learn the material and more than sufficiently pass his class or any class.

So taking his advice, if only one run through a day, I have picked up this guitar under that notion. Still today I set aside time to practice for one hour.

I feel good. I’m actually decent at this and have more than enough natural talent to be great at this. So I reiterate. Forget about taking time to wow people. Take time to WOW yourself. I promise it’ll make you feel good.