I thank Him for little pieces of home.
I went for a gig earlier this week, someone from home. It was good to just see familiar faces...not that I don't see familiar faces everyday, but just familiar faces part of home. It was good to catch up and all that.
It's been a tough time of late, time seems to just whizz past without me realising. It's been a month since school reopened. I'm at that stage again where I'm just worn out. Where I'm wondering how I'm gonna make it through. The temptation of giving up and packing up oh-so-appealing.
Making decisions on my own, it's all part of growing up, I know that. But maybe I'm getting tired of fending for myself? Maybe I'm just exhausted? Maybe it's because I'm alone here? Maybe it's because I'm not working hard enough to occupy my mind with things other than homesickness? Baking therapy last night didn't really work.
I discovered that musicians are probably among to most critical among the artspeople. Today. During the elective class. We had to do a 'mini lecture'. We were given the task of 'teaching' a given topic within 10-15 minutes. And there was a peer comment session right after each group presented. Then Teddy Bear pointed out that all the comments that came from the people from our department were more often than not negative comments, compared to the comments from artspeople from the other departments. Made me think. Yes, it's essential for us to prepare ourselves as musician for harsh criticism. But subjecting others to that just because I'm a musician? That's something I have to pay extra attention to, I suppose.
Listening to this song on loop - State of my Mind - the song basically says that they way we think, the way we react - it's all a choice. "It's all in the state of my mind," one of the lines says. The last verse ends with a question, "What if I had no choice at all?" So that means the way I'm reacting to whatever's happening around me is really a subconscious choice. Call me crazy but maybe I just like the sense of longing for home. It's like a form of torture I subject myself to just because I can't let go, or don't want to.
Being away from home, people call me independent, they tell me I'm brave, they tell me I'm mature. But am I really? The truth? I'm scared. And I don't necessarily like the circumstances I'm in right now. I guess I just have to face the inevitable. It's better to start now than to have to pry myself away from home when I'm 40. Struggles and all that - they're real. I'd tell you a million times over, I'm really really scared. And lonely. And the emo-ness is setting in. It's setting in nicely, which it shouldn't.
Do I have a place to call home?
Where has my passion gone?
Will I wear myself thin and eventually snap?
Today GC said something that hit me hard. It's the rehearsals that are incredible, not the performance itself. It's the beauty of the music all coming together in the rehearsals, not the close-to-perfect performance in the concert. It's the journey that matters, not the final destination.
So this being my journey now...how am I going to make it count?
It's all in the state of my mind.
