It was approximately 15 years ago that I felt I’d lost my passion for playing music.
It’s pretty much that simple.
I no longer wanted to play professionally and to be honest I had a tough time convincing many people of my said intentions. I prayed that God would somehow intervene and
place the passion back into my life but for unknown reasons
He had a very different plan for me.
It was around that time that I began writing and in my heart, I embraced it from a purely creative standpoint saying ‘goodbye’ to the musical interlude in my life.
It just felt right at the time.
This post, however, is not about writing but the fact that something happened today that made me intrinsically understand that I haven’t lost my passion for music after all.
It’s just been delicately moved to a very private place.
I was telling someone a story about a night many years ago when I was still gigging.
Looking for something to do on my break, I found a dark and empty function room that was quiet (unlike the loud, shitty disco music they were playing on my break).
In the middle of the room there was a candle of a spotlight shining down on an object that I came to discover was a small grand piano. I sat down and played a few favorite chord changes and my mouth unconsciously uttered the words: Oh, My, God.
This was not your basic grand piano.
This was something special.
This was a Twilight Zone moment.
I looked around for a solitary ‘signpost up ahead’ and just began playing.
I became unaware of time and space and the spinning world I was currently sitting upon.
I was ‘in the creative zone’ while on a 20 minute break from my gig.
After the band finished and everyone was ready to go home, I began heading back into the club.
“Where the hell are you going?” the guitar player asked.
“Back to play that piano,” I said.
“You’re nuts, man. It’s two o’ clock in the morning.”
In I went and sat down.
And I played.
I was lost somewhere between heaven and the belt of Orion.
My heart was almost breaking the sound was so beautiful.
I remember thinking, ‘this must be how God sounds’.
I had no idea what time it was when a voice from the shadows shattered my musical reverie.
“Hey, kid . . . You sound great but I gotta close up. You hungry?”
He sent me home with a huge container of hummus and a bag of fresh Syrian bread.
I felt blessed in so many ways that night.
And damn, I love Lebanese food.
In telling the story today something unexpected happened: I had goose bumps all over my arms.
My passion for music hadn’t died at all it’s grown deeper.
I’m a bit surprised at just how deep.
If you’re curious about what kind of piano I played, it was a Steinway M, in rosewood.
I should have known.
God must have created the damn piano . . .