I grew up thinking that it was important to follow my dreams.
Music was my dream. It was my passion, my heart, my desire; music was everything.
It still is in a lot of ways. The only thing that I have ever felt that trumps music (or even simply measures up) is motherhood.
In college, where I majored in Voice, I knew that I didn't want to be a professional opera singer. I just don't LOVE opera like some of the people I knew there did. I wanted to be a studio singer, a choral singer and a recital singer.
And I am. First and foremost I am mother to 4 amazing kids. Second I am singer. I get paid to do what I love.
But right now all I feel is defeat.
I'm not sad that we haven't managed to afford piano lessons for Peter yet, or violin lessons for Lily. In fact, at the moment I'm a bit determined to steer them away from the arts and music in general.
I wouldn't be able to sing if it weren't for M, who provides for our family. M is a music professor, currently looking for work, and things don't look good.
Thankfully, M has other skills. But the thought of leaving music altogether is heartbreaking to both of us. And defeating.
What about all the years of practice? What about the gobs (and gobs and gobs) of money spent on advanced degrees? It just feels like such a waste.
Nothing is certain yet, but other options are being explored. (blah blah blah passive tense I don't giveacrap Dr. Johnson from Music 304)
Heart is broken; stomach hurts; have no idea where we'll be moving this summer.
Beyond anything else, though, I'm praying my guts out that I'll be able to amend this entry in a few days saying that I was wrong and that everything is coming up roses.
I think I'll title that post "triumph."