On Being Homeless.

During the course of the summer, I befriended someone very amazing. I had actually known her since elementary school, but I began to actually talk with her, and some of the things she said changed my entire outlook on life.

One such concept has rung particularly true for me lately. She spoke of the fact that we were entering a point in our lives where we would become "homeless." Not in the way that we don't have a roof over our heads, but in the fact that we would be between places so much over the course of the next few years. 

My parents just recently built a new home. It is quite a lovely home, and a wonderful place to stay on the weekends. However, my brief time in this home rendered no emotional connection to the brick and mortar. I don't feel at home there. 

I will always love my family, but I do not belong there. I am in fact still searching for the place I truly "belong." But for this brief season, I belong here. 

My roommates are incredible people. My home is with these people. I miss them when I leave! I truly do. They are my mothers, and sisters, and my closest friends, and I know I can talk to them about anything and everything. We are there for each other, every day, and I dare say we would do anything for each other.

We are not mere roommates. We are each other's support system, confidantes, doctors, critics, and most of all friends. It's really amazing how much we do for each other, and how close we've grown.

We pick up random odds and ends for each other. Laugh at each other. Make fun of each other. Pick each other up when we're down. (Or stranded in the city...) It's just amazing. 

For now, this is my home. Right here. This is where I feel the most at home. With these magnificent people, who I can tell anything to, and do anything with. Even go to iHop at 3 in the morning with, or spend hours in a book store with, or just chat for hours in the car with. They are my girls :) And I can't imagine life without them. 

I am still a restless spirit, and long to travel. I will never be completely satisfied. The waves and trees of distant lands have been calling me in the middle of my long hours of practice....

Maybe here....

Or here....

This would do...

But that is all a completely different story.

For now I am here. And it is my home. I don't ever want to leave these people. They have welcomed me into their hearts as quickly as I have welcomed them into mine, and I honestly wouldn't trade them for the world.

How glad I am that I ended up with them, in this marvelous place. Because it wouldn't be home without them. And what magnificent people they are! I have watched time and time again as they have left kind notes for discouraged girls, and bought gifts for birthdays, made food for each other every sunday so we can sit down for at least one "family meal," and just lend an ear anytime one was needed. 

Surely our Heavenly Father works in marvelous ways, and I dare say the first is through people like this. 

My parents may worry about my whereabouts while I am here, but little do they know, that I have roommates who do that for them, and who take care of each other as if they were blood kin. It's marvelous, and I owe them my own life. 

I cannot wait for our adventures in the future. The good and the bad. I love these people with all my heart, and with them, I am home.

Once, I was a great cellist.

I was once a Great Cellist. What seams a very long time ago.

I could play anything and everything. I was a major soloist, and first chair in my orchestra for nearly 5 consecutive years. I was absolutely unstoppable.

I could play that thing like no one else. My life went to the cello. On weekends all I did was sit on YouTube and watch fellow cellists I aspired to become.

Man, I played the heck out of that thing. Every piece, every measure, every note, was not a challenge, but a new friend. A new play date, of sorts. It was never difficult, it was what I did. No questions asked. People would ask me how long I practiced, and I would give rough estimates to their immensely surprised faces. But it was never long enough for me. Never good enough. When I played my cello, time stood still, and my time was no longer measured in seconds and minutes, but in beats, and in 4/4 or 3/4, or 6/8. I played my cello for 1000 measures, not 60 minutes. 

I was absolutely unstoppable. Everything I did was perfect, every piece I played a masterpiece. 

Well, as the story usually goes, I was a little girl chasing a dream. A dream which always seemed quite impossible. But that didn't bother me. So, I lived my days as THE Cellist. The girl who's name actually became "Jessica 'That Cool Girl who Plays the Cello' Watson". That was me. I answered to "cello" more than my own name. 

I. Was. Awesome.

I soloed my heart out. I received nothing less than the highest ratings in every solo festival I participated in. I received soloist awards over saxophonists and trumpeters from California, and Colorado. I was chosen for Solos, and I rocked the stage. 

Once, I was a great Cellist.

Then, suddenly, I went to college. 

In one day I went from 1st chair to about 7th. 

I went from playing like a virtuoso, to playing nothing but Scales for 3 weeks straight. I was reintroduced to the cello, and made privy to the fact that I knew little about this piece of wood I carried around everywhere. 

I went from center stage to the back of the section. I relearned everything. I started at the bottom, and I'm still climbing up.

Once, I was a great Cellist. 

But I gave that up. 

I gave it up to become a greater cellist. I let my professors see my imperfections. I let myself go back to the beginning, and fall to the bottom. In order to form a more perfect technique, and a greater cellist.

I'm still "That cool girl who plays the cello." 

And I still practice. A lot. I should be practicing about 24 hours a week. I'm not quite there, but I'm working my way to it. 

I've only just started this journey. I'm still at the bottom looking up at the stars, but I already sound better than I ever did. And I'm willing to work, and keep working. I'm not afraid. It's not a challenge. It's just a change that I'm getting used to. And I'm loving every minute. Even those minutes when I'm so frustrated I can't even think straight. This incredible journey I'm on is only warming up. The refiner's fire is an intense one.

But then again, I always was too stubborn to quit ;) 

Oh yeah, I remember why I was crazy enough to do this.

Well, the last little bit has been absolutely ludicrous. However, I have finally begun to be okay with this "music major" status that I wear.

You know, at first 13ish hour days at the school are extremely rough. But at some point, you begin to realize that you really can live off of a solid diet of granola bars and music for quite some time. Okay, so I come home for soup, but some days, that is not a far cry from my diet. 

The beginning of this week was exceptionally tough. I was about ready to quit. Luckily I have great roommates and neighbors who, through small things kept me going, however, I finally realized some things. 

First of all, I'm a freshman, and have a lot of growing to do. Second, I remembered WHY I embarked on this crazy adventure.

I went to a meeting with all of the music education majors this week. In that meeting, The head of the Caine College of the Arts spoke to us, and my brain went, "oh yeah, there's a reason I'm this crazy." Here is a bit of what he said.

"There's a few things I'm against. First, DOWN WITH STEM!!! (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics.) And quit believing all of that crap about how they are going to save the world. America is ranked 24th in the world with our education system. We come in behind freaking Canada. You don't even know where Canada is. It all happened with Proposition 13 when they started taking music out of schools in the sixties. Now look at us! Behind Canada. Second, I'm against teaching "Music Appreciation." We don't teach "Math Appreciation," we teach Math. We don't teach "Science Appreciation," We teach Science. I don't want you to "appreciate" Music, I want you to DO it. I don't want theses kids to "appreciate" Music, I want them to DO it. Music will be the thing that saves the world. I need you to believe that, or go study something easy, like being a doctor.... or a drummer."

Amidst my lengthy practice sessions, and strenuous schedule, I had forgotten this. I had forgotten my goal, that golden image I've been working towards for years, and will continue to do so. 

I forgot that behind my own crazy music obsession are about a dozen wonderful teachers who went through this exact same agony, and probably thought some of the same things. I owe everything I know to their perseverance. I owe them everything I know and have. And I owe it to a handful of hopeful kids someday to trudge through all of this madness. I wouldn't be who I am today without teachers who did the same.

Towards the end, Dr. Bankhead said something else,

"You aren't 9 to 5 kind of guys. No, you guys are work until you get it done no matter how long it takes kind of guys. You are some of the craziest people I know. You have a sense of humor that I have never seen anywhere else, and that I love. As a dean, I have an opportunity to make my own schedule and decide what I teach. I tried teaching non music majors once. It was the worst decision I ever made. You people are my favorite, and you are the future of music. You are what will save the world."

Suddenly, my 13 hour days didn't seem so bad. Because, there was once a little girl, In a 7th grade orchestra class who saw college students perform, and her heart ached because she wanted so badly to play as well as them, but knew that something like that was never possible. But, being the optimist she was, her little heart held onto that dream.

Now, call her crazy, but she's still holding onto that dream and trying to discover if it's possible. And if you asked her, she would tell you it was impossibly difficult, but that she's always been a fan of proving people wrong, Crazy or not, here she comes. 

It's been an amazing adventure, and it is only just beginning. So, forward my mail to the land of "celloing my face off," and maybe send any extra food my way. 

Because we all know I can't really live on granola bars and music for that long...

Surviving, and Trying to Live a little.

Sorry, I'm not one of those party college kids. Well, maybe a little ;)

This is my third week in this giant world of education, and things are coming along.

I haven't failed anything yet, In fact I've gotten mostly 100% on my assignments.

My professors are all very nice, and great to work with, and I've already met many great friends which usually end up at my apartment on any given night.

Yesterday was a bit difficult. I'm getting to that point where I'm not a "new" freshman anymore, so I actually have to do my assignments and be on top of things. I can't just use the, "I didn't know" excuse anymore. I just had one of those days. One of those days where you get down, and hard on yourself, and lots of things go wrong, and you're just hungry. So I came home from this realization, and pretty much just crashed on my couch. My splitting head ache didn't help matters. 

Anyway, it was a bit of a rough day, but luckily, my wonderful roommates and neighbors helped my day end much better.

These wonderful ladies are a magnificent group of people. They helped me forget my troubles even if  it was for just a minute. After my nap, we went to get tickets for this saturday's football game, and topped it off with Aggie Ice Cream. They are some of the most fun, and yet intelligent people to hold conversations with, and I'm so lucky to be sharing living space with them. I love them to death!

I was still kind of down and having that really bad, rough day when the Ice Cream run was suggested, but I went, and these ladies changed my day for the better just like they always do :) 

Later, my neighbor invited us over for some Mario Cart action, which I'm a bit rusty at.... And Another guy from my ward came over later that night, and just chilled. All of these people, due to the small, insignificant things they do, make life up here worth living. And worth more than just existing for. When you spend 13 hours a day at school, it's easy to feel completely depleted and like you have absolutely no social life, but these guys make sure that there is never a dull moment in our apartment.

So, it was one of those days. 

But it was one of those days, where yeah, I was down, but sometimes you have to get down in order to find something, and It is helping me find how to be even better at this whole college thing. 

And I am getting better every day. Today, I've been a good girl, and haven't even skipped any practice sessions. Not even the one at 7:30 in the morning. I'm playing much better than I ever have, yet at the same time, I can hear how much farther I have to go, and I assure you, it is far. I have so much music to practice, there is literally not enough time in the day to complete all of it. But, I'm certainly trying my best.

So, I'm learning. I'm learning new things about the world, and most importantly about myself.

Something I tell myself every day, as I get up earlier, and get home later than most of my roommates. It can get rough up here. But I just have to keep telling myself why I'm here. WHY I'm doing this, and WHY people look at me and call me crazy. Because music is what I love, and I am the musician I am today because several people went through this very same thing a long time ago. 

I owe it to those kids in the future who will just thirst to be better at what they do. I don't care if all of my students in the future pursue music. Most of them will probably not. But I owe it to them to inspire them to live for the dreams they create. Not just let them exist while they sleep. I'm not just in this for music. (Though, I do adore it.) I'm in it to prove something to myself, and many, many people.

I'm in it to prove that I can do hard things, that I can live on my own. No, not just exist on my own, But LIVE on my own, and spread beautiful things in the little sphere in which I live. I'm in it to prove that dreams are never easy, but always worth it. And I'm in it to prove to myself who I really am. 

So, hard days will come and go, but I'm in this for the long run. Not just to go to a few parties and become a true aggie ;)