Surrender

For the first time since maybe I was a child, I backed down from a challenge.

Throughout my whole life, I have set out to prove to anyone who tells me I can't do something that I can.  And I generally do.  Not that anyone told me I couldn't do this particular thing.  It was, in fact, mastering the playing of handbells with extremely challenging music.  I can play handbells.  That's not the point.  This particular choir of handbells is the "varsity team"--a higher level of playing with harder music that contains intricate rhythms and techniques.  I tried it.  Gave it several weeks.  And I was getting it, but still blundering through.  The people around me, more adept and musically gifted, waited patiently while I struggled.

I thought I was equal to the challenge.  And maybe I am.  But I guess I just got tired.  It was hard, but I never before backed away from hard.  Somewhere in the midst of all this, I felt that I was holding the rest of the group back, that my pride and stubbornness were ruining what could otherwise be a nearly flawless performance. 

And so I suggested to the director that she give me some bells that weren't so crucial to the melody (where my flubs are more glaringly evident).  I'm still on the varsity team.  It's still challenging.  But when I make mistakes (and there are many) they're not nearly as noticeable.  I still feel as if I've conceded defeat.

A friend once told me that I do everything so well.  I told her that I only do things that I can do well.

I thought I did handbells well.  If I worked hard enough, I was sure, I'd be able to succeed with this new challenge.  But then I decided that I didn't want to work that hard.

Does that mean I'm getting old?  Or am I just too busy with everything else I'm doing to devote the energy to tackling this?

I've reached a time in my life where I'm starting to let go of some of my dreams.  When I don't believe I will achieve things that I thought one day I might do.  Because of physical limitations, decreased abilities due mostly to the aging and settling of my body and my mind.  It doesn't matter how impractical or improbable those things might be (did I ever think I'd try skydiving?), it's depressing to consider that I'm probably beyond a reasonable time in my life when I could accomplish some of them.

I'm now an avid reader of AARP magazine, and I marvel when I read about octogenarians running marathons and running corporations.  This should give me renewed incentive to work toward the things I'd like to do before I die.  My life is far from over, and I can be active and productive for decades.  But there is this slow dawning that time is running out.  And honestly, I'm not sure I want to work that hard anymore.

Maybe I'm just tired.  I can tell myself that for a little while longer, at least.