You're Already There

A man once came up to me after a performance, looked me in the eyes, grabbed my hand, and said this:

“You’re already there. Whatever goal you’re working towards, you’re already there. You don’t even have to try because you’re already there.”

I immediately started tearing up. I had never met this man before. How could someone I had never met know exactly what to say, and exactly when I needed to hear it?

Little did he know that I wrote those words down that night. Three years later, they’re still sitting in my Notes app. I come back to them whenever I need a reminder that maybe I’m doing better than I think I am.

At the time, I had been accepted into summer programs in Spain and North Carolina. I had a performance scheduled at Carnegie Hall later that year. By almost any measure, I was moving forward.

So why did the finish line still feel so far away?

I think a lot of musicians can relate to that feeling.

Are we ever truly done?

We spend so much time thinking about what comes next. The next audition, the next degree, the next competition, the next performance, the next piece we have to learn. There is always something else to want, something else to work toward. And when we are constantly looking ahead, it becomes easy to forget to look back.

On the days that I don’t feel good enough, I think about that conversation.

I've had bad performances. I've had memory slips. I've second-guessed the chord progression of a Bach fugue in the middle of a jury. There are plenty of performances that I wish I could redo.

But those performances have taught me something.

You are closer than you think.

It’s so easy to become completely consumed by where we want to go that we forget to recognize where we are now.

There was a time when the things you’re doing now felt impossible. Maybe you once dreamed of performing on the stage you're standing on now. Maybe you once wished you could play the piece you're currently struggling through. Maybe you once simply hoped to accompany an opera class and be good at it. 

Don't let the next goal make you forget that.

Progress is not linear.

You won't win an international competition every day. You won't have a life-altering realization in every practice session. And that’s okay. Not every day has to be extraordinary to be meaningful. 

Sometimes progress means fixing one note in a Beethoven sonata. Sometimes it's finally understanding a passage that has frustrated you for weeks. Sometimes it's playing something with a little more rubato than you did yesterday.

And sometimes, progress means stepping away from your instrument.

It all counts.

And lastly, maybe most importantly, there is no finish line.

I just realized this as I was writing. I guess there’s a timing for everything.

There will always be another piece to learn, another performance to prepare for, or another goal to reach. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. 

The problem isn’t having goals; it’s believing that we’re not good enough until we reach them. We have to be careful about measuring our worth by how close we are to the next thing.

Maybe feeling behind doesn't mean that we are actually behind.

Maybe it just means that we're so focused on where we're going that we've forgotten to look at where we already are.

That's what that stranger was trying to remind me of three years ago.

I just didn't realize how much I would need to hear those words.

So if you're reading this because you feel like you're not good enough, or because you feel like everyone else is moving faster than you, I would encourage you to take a moment and look back.

Look at how far you've come.

Look at the things that once felt impossible.

Look at the musician you are becoming.

And then, remember what that stranger told me.

You’re already there.