I watched her fingers tremble as she pressed the strings against the wood, but they weren't trembling from nerves. They were adding the rich vibrato that makes the cello sing. Combined with her bow techniques, her poise and confidence, the little black notes on the page jumped off and brought my weary soul back to life. Even the 'rests' were part of the moments.
I asked her if I could sit beside her and watch her play. Her music has always touched me deep down in my soul and often makes me emotional. When we play together, it becomes even more powerful.
How can inanimate objects like wood strung with catgut melt a person's heart? Like water that changes the shape of a hard rock over years of time. Only my heart melts within just a few measures. A few seconds.
As I sat and beheld this amazing player on her well-worn instrument, I got new inspiration. The page she was playing from was written with piano and choir in mind. It wasn't just for cello. Without the other members of the music performance, it would have sounded incomplete, albeit beautiful. But it was written to go with other parts.
One page. That's all she had. She couldn't see anything else. No choir music, no piano accompaniment. Just her part. She had to trust that what she had would fit into the whole.
You might feel as if you are a tuba in a spa, but believe me, there is a spot for the tuba. It adds incredible rich bass tones in the context of the whole. The gifts you have, the special wiring you came with, have a purpose and a place.
If everyone plays their individual part to the best of their ability, when it all comes together it will sound amazing, but you have to trust the person who wrote the arrangement. You have to trust that he knew what all the other players would be doing and how your part fits in context.
Focus. Trust. Faith.
I first wrote the piano piece called "Never By Accident" from a few simple notes. It happened by accident. But my producer wanted to add other players to what I originally thought would be a solo piano piece. I couldn't quite catch his vision until the piece was completed.
I changed the original title from "By Accident" to the new name: "Never By Accident". It was too beautiful to be an accident and it was now going on my CD.
You were not an accident. You, like the piano in this song, are meant to be part of a bigger piece.
You are beautiful. Don't shy away from letting yourself become part of something larger than you.
You weren't meant to play alone.
You were never an accident.