Mastering Proficiency, a Little Bit

There is not enough time to do everything I wish I could be doing. There is not enough time for me to master everything I wish that I could master. Or one thing mastered, for that matter.

I often feel plagued by the Almost-Proficient Syndrome. You know, where one can do lots of things with reasonable proficiency, but nothing with stellar mastery. And if I had to pick the one thing to master, what would it be? To choose? I couldn't, I don't think. My list of wish-I-coulds is suffering from ADD. It's changing channels with rapid-fire progression. There is so much to learn, so much to do! I just want to keep learning and doing, but I can't stay focused long enough for mastery. It's always on to the next thing.

I am a child in a family of impressive talent. The writers, the poets, the artists galore, the bakers, the chefs, the gardeners. I can approach each of those subjects with only a modicum of talent (well, except for art, because somehow only the boys in the family stole off with those riches!), but I don't feel exceptional in any of them. Maybe I'm still looking for my niche. Maybe?

Lately, to break the mental overload that is organic chemistry, I've been soothing myself with piano music. The "in" thing to do right now is to play Yiruma's River Flows in You, from Twilight. It is stunningly beautiful to me. The first time I heard someone playing it, it stopped me dead in my tracks, and I had to know where I could get the music. It's not like I have so much extra time to learn music these days, but this song, the beauty of it, it's like truth to my soul, and I've needed it. Have you heard it?

I looked it up on YouTube and listened to a couple of kids play it as they videotaped themselves, self-consciously trying not to look into the camera. (Hollywood Rule #1) But then, I found the video of Yiruma himself playing it, and that, my friend, is a whole new experience. This song came out of him. He birthed this beauty, and I am in awe as I listen to him play his own creation. It has to be divine, like it existed in heaven and God chose to channel it through to this inspired man. It just touches me so deeply. I admit that I am a wee bit envious of that kind of creation.



Once I admitted that fact out loud and the wise woman I was with replied, well, someone has to have the talent to create it, but someone else must have the gift to appreciate it. That actually made me feel better. I might be gifted after all, because though I cannot dance, or play masterfully, or sing beautifully, or compose AT ALL, I am able to testify of the truth of beauty in all its musical forms, and feel sweeping emotion move me to tears. I suppose somebody's got to be in the audience weeping, right?

I can do a little here and a little there, and I am admittedly blessed with the desire to do more, learn more, be more. So, I'm at least proficient, even masterful, in the yearning. And in the rest? Well, dabbling is more than nothing. And there's a lot still yet to be written.