The old saying that “laughter is the best medicine” is definitely one I accept with open arms and an open heart.
I admit that I can be self-critical. Unfortunately, it’s a hard-wired skill after growing up in a household where criticism was the main course. It’s a constant battle with the mind—and one that I am trying to be more aware of.
While sitting in front of my music stand the other night, I looked over a piece that the orchestra I’m playing with this autumn will be performing. I was reviewing the key, time signatures, and other markings; trying to remember what it all means.
But when I was trying to recall the markings for staccato, the difference between forte and mezzo forte, and other terms I haven’t seen in half a century—I started to get a bit anxious.
Suddenly, I realized that I was getting all bent out of shape over this. WHY? This return to music is supposed to be fun, right? It’s supposed to be joyful and not stressful, right? I burst out laughing and couldn’t stop.
It was a full belly laugh that went on and on, promoting tears. I was laughing AT myself, realizing how seriously I was taking myself and how pointless and harmful this was. Music is joyful and meaningful to me, so why am I beating on myself?
The fact is, it’s just the old voices reminding me that they’re still there.
I got up from the music stand to write “LAUGH” on a sticky note and placed it on the stand. I need to remind myself to take my medicine like a man, and laughing at myself is the best medicine.
