It's easy to get so caught up in working on music that one loses sight of why one is doing this in the first place.
After my 100-turned-365 Days of Practice, it was full-on summer, and I slacked off a bit, mostly due to the advent of new discipline: exercise. Exercise slowly eclipsed practice, and I confirmed what I suspected:
As parents, we're very lucky if we can manage ONE discipline outside of family. We're downright KAMIKAZE if we can do two.
The last days of silence have been a lot about wondering why my practice has eased off. I gave up for a while. Took a break.
And then, today's session. The one I browbeat myself into, squeezing a session into the last 45 minutes I had with a new babysitter. Ran to the basement for a little saxophone, a little flute.
It started out frantic, hurried. How would I fit in all the material I wanted to prepare for our August 24 concert? But slowly, I forgot to think about it. Slowly, I forgot to practice, and without realizing it, suddenly I was playing, not practicing.
45 minutes later, everything hurt and it was time to be done. But my goodness, it was fun. And then the lightbulb: Did I just say FUN?
That's what this, fun.
A good reminder.