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The other day Nikki was texting her sister-in-law about something she (Nikki) had put off for too long. She followed it up with a phrase I am going to remember forever…. “I was going to procrastinate, but I waited too long.” Brilliant. I had a moment of enjoyment, then my mouth curled forming a smirk, then my stomach didn’t feel too good. Sort of like eating that one too many chili dog with the extra shake of hot sauce.
It was a reminder and it hit me good. Not a new revelation mind you, but a known fact I simply try to ignore but never seems to leave the foyer.
I have improved in this area. Conquered some fears. Dealt with some issues I learned have aided in helping me in putting things off. But I still wait on life to come to me far too often.
I have two reminders I pass forty times a day sitting not twelve feet from each other in my home.
My piano and my journal.
The piano sits in my dining room because if it wasn’t there I would never play. I need it in such a place so as I pass it for the fortieth time for the fortieth day in a row it will eat at me to go play it. I rarely do.
For you musicians and/or music lovers you know the following truth. Times change. We change. Bands we love change with the exception of a few standards that never change. The songs that hit the right chord in your gut may hit a different one a month later. The song may remain the same, (hey, a Zeppelin reference, neato!), but we change and thus the impact of the song changes. It may or may not be less of an impact, but it will speak to us differently. Sort of like the Scriptures.
It’s the beauty and the sadness of music. I want to keep the thrill of a new song for as long as possible so often I try to limit the number of times I listen to it in order to prolong the joy. I probably should just soak it up as I search for the next one. I don’t know. What am I saying? I’m procrastinating with my point. (See?!!)
That piano sits there as I change, as I evolve, as I develop as a person. The song I could have written three months ago won’t be the same song today even if the notes I write are the same. Procrastination robs me of leaving a popcorn trail to who I was then and who I am today and the steps it took to get here, good or bad.
Same with my journal. It sits on top of my Bible, my book on Bonhoeffer, my book about Pujols, and my book about a cat who tries to convince me to eat green eggs. (won’t happen.) My journal taunts me the same as the piano.
The worst part….I fear leaving those things behind and droning on through life. If I wait too long then procrastination evolves from a “tomorrow for sure” to a closed door. These aren’t the only two items of procrastination. These are simply the only two items for which I was smart enough to give me a reminder in order to conquer.
This may be a ridiculous question but what is your piano? Maybe it’s the spoons. The world will never have enough spoon players. Let me encourage you, if spoons are your piano, to walk to your kitchen right now and grab a pair. Or for the professionals, please go to your lock-box and retrieve your tournament level spoons and get on with it. You can do it!
I pray you do something about it. I can’t help you with what it is. If I knew I would tell you, but I have a journal staring at me over my right shoulder as I type. I think he’s laughing at me.
As I prepare my “sermon” for May 21st I keep coming back to the Three Amigos (“Sew very old one. Sew like the wind!”), future King David hiding in a cave, and the book of Jude*. Really? We’ll see.
*Jude is a book that will blow your hair back when you really dig in to what it’s saying. Don’t mess with the Jude.