Something There

Only five more sleeps to go! And if you think I'm overexcited now simply counting down to the first week of December, you should see me Christmas Eve (where it's now tradition to call my sister at 7.30am to screech down the phone at her 'It's Christmas Eeeeeeeeeve' in the style of Eloise. Why? Because it amuses me and annoys her. And I need some kind of vent or it's entirely possible I'll implode). 

Five more sleeps and then it's Carols time! Which means we're still rehearsing away. Which for some people is not that much fun because they are already overloaded on Christmas and it's still November (you might be able to guess that I'm not in that group). As a compromise the last half an hour is dedicated to rehearsing non-Christmas material which (surprisingly) devastates some (yes, I'm in that group. That very quiet group. Just in case mob rule suddenly applies). 

Yet it's the same in the lead up to any concert. You've been rehearsing and rehearsing and rehearsing. You get to the point where you think not this again. It's like when you're walking in the same places everyday or driving the same roads. Every day. You don't really notice much and just focus on where you're going. And then something that's always been there will suddenly catch your eye. And you'll see the beauty in everything that's around you. You'll wonder how you could have forgotten, how you got used to it. You might even stop for a minute and take it all in (unless of course you're driving in which case you'll immediately redirect your attention back to the road because you are in charge of a ton of speeding metal). 

It's the same with music. Sometimes you're so focused on getting your part right, that while you're aware of others parts around you, you're not really listening. You're not hearing the beauty when all the different parts play together. And it's a magical thing. So sometimes you need to remind yourself to stop and take it all in. 

There's your challenge. To notice something there, that was always there before.