I haven’t written in a long time. That’s partially because I’ve become in certain ways, more protective of my personal life. When I was single, my personal life was just mine. But as a person in a serious relationship, my personal life is now intertwined with someone else’s personal life. And as such, it’s a more private space.

I guess one of the most interesting things about reflecting upon what I wrote as a single person, is that a lot of my struggles are still the same now. I have someone that loves me, that takes care of me, that is there for me every single day. And yet, I still have insecurities. And yet, I still wonder if I’m “good enough.” And yet, I still deal with perfectionism. As a single person, I often thought that if I found someone who thought I was spectacular– then I would think I was. However, I have found while being in a relationship that no matter how many times my partner tells me I am a good person, that I am smart, that I’m a great musician, that I’m beautiful– I still feel that I’m not living up to my expectations for myself. Understanding that fact, has been difficult. It makes the problems harder to solve. Being in love and in a happy relationship is wonderful, it’s absolutely wonderful. But, it doesn’t solve all my problems. It doesn’t help me fix all my insecurities, perfectionist tendencies, and fears. It does help me face them. It makes it very necessary for me to face them. But, it doesn’t fix them. So, then, the question becomes — what will ? what will “fix” everything that’s hard about being myself ?

Apparently, the Barbie movie.

HAHAH you weren’t expecting that were you?

Ok, to be fair. The Barbie movie + A LOT of therapy. I’ve been going to the Center for Anxiety every week for half a year and the therapy that I do there helps me make progress every week with my anxieties, sources of sadness, and my coping skills. How did the Barbie movie help me? Well, there was one scene where Barbie was just totally and completely overwhelmed. She laid down on the ground flat on her face and proclaimed that she was done trying to solve everything. This Barbie, she was relatable. You could tell from all the laughs of women throughout the theater that we had all been there. Not maybe with our face in the grass like Barbie, but we’d all at least once been in that emotional headspace. When Barbie described what was wrong, she explained that she felt she was not pretty enough, or smart enough, or a good enough caregiver. She felt inadequate in every way. Having Barbie admit to not feeling 100% was pivotal for those of us that played with Barbie dolls when we were little. Barbie was who we wanted to be when we grew up. Barbie had her dream job, she had her dream relationship, she had won awards and made strides for humanity, she had time for her babies, AND she was literally always smiling. Yes, she was a doll, but she was an idealistic version of who we wanted to be. As little girls we wanted to be able to have our dream jobs, our dream partners, win awards, be appreciated, be fantastic moms, and literally never be sad. It was healing to see Barbie feel inadequate, and to see Barbie cry. At least for me, seeing Barbie fall down and cry made me realize that trying to be Barbie (at least as we imagined her when we were younger) is impossible and potentially damaging. I always knew that Barbie created or at least contributed to unrealistic beauty standards, but I hadn’t thought of how the very well meaning extraordinary-ness of Barbie could also be damaging. When America Ferrara’s character brings up the idea of ORDINARY BARBIE, a Barbie that just gets up everyday and tries her best — every girl that had ever played with a Barbie doll, and even I’m sure some who hadn’t, breathed a sigh of relief. How wonderful would it be if we could be ORDINARY, and still be happy. Of course, in many ways, we are extraordinary. But, being reminded that ORDINARY is still good enough, was just so healing for me.

It’s something I’ve talked about in therapy forever….how I always wanted to be extraordinary. Not just in one way, but in every way. But perfectionism can be crippling. Perfectionism can keep the viola in the case. (Why pick it up if I can’t play that section perfectly?) Perfectionism can prevent the paper from every getting written. (Why write if it’s not earth shatteringly profound ?) Perfectionism can keep all the ingredients for a new meal in the fridge. (Why cook if it’s not going to be culinary excellence?) So, ironically enough, GIVING OURSELVES THE PERMISSION TO BE ORDINARY CAN HELP US ACHIEVE MORE. The passage doesn’t sound good? So what, at least you’re working on it. The paper is kind of terrible? So what, at least you’ve got a few sentences strung together. The sauce for your pasta is too salty? That’s ok girl, you can throw it in the trash and start over– at least you learned something new today.

Barbie reminded me what I always have to be reminded — that I don’t have to be perfect.

Because, in the words of John Steinbeck: “Now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.”

Billie Eilish wrote and sang a beautiful song for the Barbie movie. The song is called “What Was I Made For?” and it reminded me of the second lesson I always need to remember. LIFE ISN’T ABOUT HOW MUCH WE PRODUCE. Life, in the end, may actually be about being happy. I mean, we don’t have to be silly happy all the time. But life, the real purpose of life, may actually be about finding what makes us joyful and doing that.

In the song, Eilish expresses that sentiment this way:

“Think I forgot how to be

happy

something I’m not, but

something I can be

Something I wait for

Something I’m made for”

So, I guess Barbie reminded me that I can be ordinary and I can be happy. And that, actually, I think that’s what I would like to be. That doesn’t mean I will give up my work ethic or anything. But, it just means that when I work really hard and I’m not suddenly an olympian, I’ll still be proud of what I’ve done. Because ordinary achievements, are still achievements. And life isn’t about gold medals anyways.

Hugs,

Rachael

I just graduated with my masters in music from San Francisco Conservatory of Music. I worked extremely hard for six years there. I worked hard on honing my craft, I worked hard in my academic classes, I worked hard in my chamber groups, I worked hard in orchestra, I worked hard period. There were many, many days where I had all work and no play. In a certain way, I wore it as a badge of honor. I might not be the best musician, but at least I’m one of the ones who practices the longest. I might not be the most intelligent person, but at least I’m one of the ones who studies the most. This way of living DID get me EXCELLENT grades in school and made 99% of my teachers very happy with me. BUT, it did not actually make me happy. It still doesn’t.

I went straight from graduating to the National Orchestral Institute. There is SO MUCH MUSIC to play here. It is easy to feel like even if I practiced all day everyday, I would still not play well enough here. However, practicing all day everyday has diminishing returns, and has serious consequences. I’ve been rather open about the fact that I have anxiety and a panic disorder. I’ve been thinking a lot about how I can really crack the code on what makes the panic attacks always come back. I had one last night at intermission after playing Ravel Daphnis and Chloe. And of course, that was terrible, and I barely was able to play the second half of the program. However, between yesterday and today I’ve made some serious realizations about myself and my mental health that I think are very important.

1. Making sacrifices for music is something all musicians have to do at some point. However, I personally don’t ever again want to sacrifice my basic human needs for playing music. I need to eat well and multiple times in the day. I need to sleep 8 hours or more. And I NEED beautiful moments of human connection, EVERYDAY, not just on vacations. There are people who will think I should give up these things, and that was something I bought into for a long while. But, I now have decided that’s utterly ridiculous and I simply refuse to do it in the future. I MUST take care of my body, my heart and my mind.
2. I’m never going to play a perfect concert. That’s hard to swallow, but definitely true. Every professional I’ve spoken to has said that they leave concerts always thinking of something that could have been different. That can fuel more great art in the future, but not if we think it means we failed. The concert is never going to be a perfect masterpiece. Never. It’s going to hopefully be our best on that day, but it’s not going to be perfect. Every concert I’ve played for the past six years, I’ve left it thinking I failed in some way– large or small. But from now on I’m going to see small mistakes for what they are– part of the beautiful experience that it is to make music as an imperfect human being rather than a robot. Last night in Daphnis and Chloe I made a lot of mistakes– a lot– way more than I hope to ever make again in a concert. BUT I also had some extremely expressive and beautiful moments as a part of an incredible orchestra, and that’s the part I’d like to focus on. Can my left hand be faster? Absolutely. Can my string crossings be faster? Absolutely. But does that mean I completely failed on Daphnis last night? NO.
3. I want to have fun every day of my life. If I’d said that to myself a few years ago, or last year, or even last week I might have thought I was being irresponsible. But here’s the thing: life is way way too short to miss it only working. Am I going to suddenly become flaky and late to everything and not practice my part? No, absolutely no. BUT, I do think there is a balance between that and the uptight intensity I have lived with for many years. I think there is a way I can have fun everyday AND work hard everyday. I can live a balanced life full of achievements, but also full of fun.

I wrote the following letter to the students I TAed in english my first year of masters the week I graduated. I told a lot of them to give up fun to get good grades when I was TAing them. That is also what I told myself for many years… here’s what I said to them, and what I hope to remember for myself…

Dear precious College Writing students, 

Firstly, congratulations on finishing your second year !! Years of life give us wisdom, and this one gave me a lot. I’m leaving SFCM after six years and while I am proud of all I have been able to achieve here, I do still have regrets and wishes about moments that I missed. Getting good grades is awesome, and feels very seratonin inducing, but not as seratonin increasing as actually having great relationships. The best memories I have from college are the ones spent with friends, not the ones in the library or the practice room. I’m not saying don’t study or don’t practice — do your best and at least pass your classes— but go to the parties and go on the dates and spend time with the people you care about. Life is too short to miss it writing papers!!! (OR PRACTICING FOREVER!!!)

I’ll be rooting you guys on from Boston. 

With the biggest amount of love, 

Rachael Lindsey 

The best parts of life are the people we love and the time we spend with them. The best moments in life are the ones where we are laughing and enjoying ourselves and having fun. I used to think “fun” was irresponsible and reckless. But fun is one of the best parts of being alive.

MAY WE ALL HAVE SO MUCH FUN ! And may we also take care of our human needs and concerns, before we do the exceptional amount of work that seems to be an inevitable part of society. May we have balance and joy and peace and so much love, and I do believe that at least in my case that will give me a happier and a healthier life.

Dating is hard. Dating is super, duper hard. It involves navigating physical and emotional boundaries as you move towards a close and intimate bond with another person. If I didn’t want to someday have a very close emotional and physical romantic relationship, I wouldn’t bother with dating at all. But, the reason I often throw in the towel for dating is because of how many men consistently don’t listen to my boundaries and push me faster than I want to go. To that, many might say, yes but Rachael you’re unusual. A 27 year old virgin?! A 27 year old that’s never kissed anyone?! A 27 year old that’s never had a relationship? Yes, I am unusual. But, I still deserve to be respected. This week I gave up online dating AGAIN because a man that I gave an honest and decent chance to CONSISTENTLY didn’t listen to me and walked right past my boundaries at least four times. When I say that I don’t want to kiss you, it means I don’t want to kiss you. When I say that I’m not going to be having sex, it’s not your job to convince me to change my mind! I am sick of having to give all my reasons for not giving myself physically to everyone I go on dates with. Yes, my religious background has something to do with it, but it’s not the only reason. I consistently give up dating because I want to have control over my own body, and dating makes me feel like I don’t. Dating makes me feel pressured. Dating makes me feel stressed! And of course, I do want to kiss someone someday! I’m a human! But, I WANT IT TO BE MY OWN CHOICE. If I sound mad, it is because I am. So if you’re a single person, in the dating world, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE respect other peoples boundaries physical and emotional!!!! It is SO IMPORTANT!!!! And if you’re in a relationship, remember that it is always a gift and an honor and a privilege to receive physical affection from your partner– not a right or something that you can force your partner into!!

Someday, when I’m in a relationship with someone I love and with someone that loves me, ONE OF THE REASONS I WILL LOVE THEM IS BECAUSE MY PHYSICAL DECISIONS WILL STILL BE MY OWN CHOICE.

PLEASE.

RESPECT.

WOMEN’S.

CHOICES.

AND.

WOMEN’S

BODIES.

Also RESPECT

MEN’S.

CHOICES.

AND.

MEN’S.

BODIES.

AND.

NONBINARY.

PEOPLE’S.

CHOICES.

AND.

NONBINARY.

PEOPLES’.

BODIES.

When we say no, we do not mean “convince me.” It’s a cliched phrase, AND YET PEOPLE ARE STILL GOING AROUND TRYING TO CONVINCE US WHEN WE SAY NO.

PLEASE STOP.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.

Rachael

Here are a few sources to explain consent and coercion.

Coercion https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/other-types/sexual-coercion

Consent https://www.rainn.org/articles/what-is-consent

I used to call certain activities and feelings “humaning.” I used to find some egotistical amount of pride from the fact that I didn’t need to “human” as much as other people. The fact is, I did need to, and depriving myself of my human needs wasn’t actually making me better. I discovered this in a big way with my failure as a chamber musician last semester. When I didn’t attend to my own needs, my relationships suffered and my art suffered.

Lately, when I’ve started to get grumpy I’ve decided to assess. I ask myself “did I eat properly recently?”, “did I sleep enough and well?”, “did I have enough positive social interaction lately?”, “have I received/given enough physical affection lately?”. Usually, if I’m grumpy the answer to one or many of these is no. Admitting to myself when I’m depriving my human needs has improved my health but also my relationships.

For example, yesterday I got my menstrual cycle for the second time in a month. Yes, it’s still taboo to talk about cycles even though 50% of the world gets them. But here is the thing, my emotional and physical needs are completely different on my cycle. Because of my history with endometriosis and my irregular cycles, I’ve learned that I actually have to listen to my body really carefully. On the “hard weeks” I have to eat the foods that make my body and I happy, I have to get more sleep, I need to exercise more to deal with the extra hormones, and unfortunately I do actually need to allow myself to cry. Allowing myself to cry when I have an excess of emotional energy because of biology actually makes me much happier. If I allow myself to cry when I need to, then I’m much more relaxed and much less grumpy.

I’ve decided to accept my humanness on “the hard weeks” and all the weeks and that has made me a better friend, a better sister, a better daughter and a better colleague.

Sometimes I need to feel my sadness or feel my anxiety all the way through so I don’t suppress it and become grumpy or angry or mean. It is much better to process the emotions I’m having than to push them down and ignore them until they become a big problem.

Once a month, my body makes me feel sad. Usually my external circumstances are exactly the same, but something about my physical body and the chemicals in my brain just makes things feel different. But I don’t need to get mad at myself for it, or fight it. I can just see it for what it is, the monthly sad. (Or sometimes, the twice monthly sad, haha) I don’t have to accept the sad thoughts as truths or as permanent things. I can simply say “right now I’m sad because of my biological functions and that’s ok.”

We don’t talk about these things sometimes because they’re “embarrassing“, but they are also just human. Do I perhaps get more sad than normal women on my cycle? Yes. My therapist once suggested I might have PMDD which causes an extra heavy emotional response to the cycle. But, I’m not the only woman who has ever felt like that. And In fact, even women who don’t have PMDD or something resembling it still get sad on their period. It’s part of women’s lives, and it’s ok.

So if you get sad on your period, even though it literally happens all the time, and you’re literally an adult, I’m here to tell you that it is ok. All that means is you are human.

If you feel sad because you want a partner and you don’t have one that doesn’t make you weak, that makes you human. If you feel sad because you’re 27 and your body is starting to tell you to have a baby even though you’re in school and it’s not the time, that doesn’t make you weak, that makes you human. It is ok to want a partner, to want a family, to want love. It is ok to feel sad, to feel anxious, to need time to process. None of these things make you weak they just make you human.

Embracing my humanness and tending to my human needs has improved all my relationships and also my work.

Artistry is more moving when it includes ALL of life’s feelings, not just the ones that aren’t “embarrassing.” If I play Bartok thinking about all the hard weeks and all the things I’ve wanted and been unable to have (as of yet), it is a much better performance. If I play the Romeo and Juliet suite thinking about the crush I wish I didn’t have, it’s much more expressive and interesting. Art is BETTER not worse when we express all our feelings, not just the pretty ones.

In the words of Viola Davis: “It’s very, very important that we tell the truth in our art because it makes people feel less alone.”

This post is pretty open and honest and vulnerable — some might say too much so— but if it makes at least one girl or one person feel less alone than it will be worth it.

Allow yourself to feel all the feelings. Allow yourself to be human. Allow yourself the space you need to deal with the trials and triumphs of the human experience. You deserve it. 💛

In 2019 (April 26th to be exact, because the internet remembers everything) I wrote a blogpost on this site entitled “What Chamber Music Has Taught Me About Love.” I wrote about how chamber music is hard precisely because love is hard, and chamber music cannot function without some version of love. I also wrote about how it was worth it. In the end of October, I found myself in the hallway next to Barbro Osher Salon crying while I told my teacher that I’d been trying to make chamber music work for ten years, and it just hadn’t. Maybe it was true that chamber music was hard but worth it and love was hard but worth it. However, maybe, for me, neither were possible. That was of course not a very happy headspace to sit in, but it did allow me to make some important discoveries about chamber music and about love. I made two important discoveries this past month.

First discovery was: I have to take care of myself if I’m going to love people properly. If I’m pushing myself to the edge everyday, I simply cannot be the kind of partner that enhances other peoples’ lives. It’s worth it to take the extra time to sleep well, eat well, exercise regularly, get all the good therapy that I need (even if it’s a lot), take my medications and change them when needed. It’s worth it because when I’m unhealthy, I’m not the only one that suffers. Of course, some anxiety always exists for me, and that’s how a lot of us with anxiety feel. No matter how many apples we eat, or how many times a month we see our therapist, we still have some anxiety. But managing anxiety is kind of like managing diabetes, we can’t just give up because it’s hard or inconvenient or because there is no real cure. We have to admit that we have an illness, an illness that won’t go away, but that we can manage it carefully so that we can have healthy and happy lives. For awhile after I was moved from an octet to a duo, I really felt like perhaps I was an impossible person to love because of my anxiety and my panic disorder. I thought that perhaps, I would never be able to keep a chamber group. I thought that perhaps, I would never be able to have a family of my own because of my anxiety and my panic disorder. But, after a lot of therapy, I realized that I can develop and maintain loving and healthy relationships, so long as I love and care for myself.

Second discovery was: Not every partnership is meant to be. It’s easy sometimes to beat ourselves up when we lose a chamber music partner, a business partner, a friendship, or a romantic partner. But, the fact is, not all puzzle pieces fit together. I do believe that apologizing and forgiving are really important regardless of the outcome. However, some chamber partners don’t have the same goals. They don’t want to play the same music, or they don’t want to play the same way. They don’t have the same dreams for performance. If there are small differences in these ideals, they can be overcome. But when there are huge differences, it is time to move on and find new partners. The same is true in business I am sure. If you have majorly different goals in a company, you might need to split into different companies or different teams. Romantic partners or potential partners can be exceptional people, and still not fit our lifestyles. Sometimes, even if we think someone is lovely, we have to let them go because they don’t quite fit into the puzzle of our lives. We can always have positive relationship with people even when things don’t work out, but we don’t need to try to keep every group or every relationship. Some aren’t meant to be, and that is a-ok. It took me years to figure that out. But, at least, I’ve figured it out now.

So yes, chamber music is really exceptionally difficult. Relationships (of all kinds) are really exceptionally difficult. However, they are still worth it and they are still possible– no matter what your personal struggles may be. We are all capable of and deserving of love, so long as we take care of ourselves and look for people who fit with our puzzle piece.

Posture. Posture. Posture.

I hear it over and over and it is consistently the hardest technical element of playing viola for me. Why? Because I don’t LIKE standing up straight. Why do I not like standing up straight? I don’t like standing up straight for the same reason I constantly say “I’m sorry.”

I want to be small.

This is not an unusual desire for a woman.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie once said that:

“We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, you can have ambition, but not too much. You should aim to be successful, but not too successful. Otherwise, you would threaten the man.”

It has become increasingly clear to me that my largest problem as an artist, is that I am actually afraid of being exceptional. Being an exceptional artist means being daring, being brave, being bold, being loud. Being an exceptional artist means taking risks, letting go, “making yourself an open wound (Timothee Chalamet).”

It is simply impossible to be the kind of artist I need to be if I am afraid of standing tall and being seen.

Posture. Fortissimo. Expressivo. Projection! These are all words I don’t like, but they’re the words I need to succeed.

I want to be small.

This is not an unusual desire for a woman.

But, if I wish to be an artist I cannot be small. Female artists must expand, which is perhaps why art has been such a crucial part of the female experience for centuries. Even when we weren’t allowed to go to school or have jobs or own land— we still played instruments and painted pictures and embroidered.

Audre Lorde once described the importance of art to the female experience in the following way:

“For women, then, poetry (artistry) is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action.”

Tomorrow I’ve got to walk on stage as the only woman with three men. This is hard for me. But, I’ve decided that I’ve got to walk on that stage with my shoulders tall and my head held high because the music deserves all of me— not simply a shrunken half of myself. Shostakovich gave the viola quite a lot in this quartet. I’ve got multiple solos in all three movements and the rest of the notes are pretty crazy as well. Additionally, the piece is a huge emotional journey from beginning to end (with no breaks! it’s attaca!). I HAVE TO GIVE IT EVERYTHING.

My first hope for tomorrow is that I can stand tall and be loud and play boldly. My second hope for tomorrow is that I can inspire the young girls in my life to do the same.

YOUR SONG IS BEAUTIFUL. SING IT LOUD ENOUGH SO PEOPLE CAN HEAR!

Thank you to the strong women in my life— my mother, my grandmothers, my aunts, my violin and viola teachers, my sisters and my friends. Thank you for teaching me how to sing !

(Also thanks to the Chanel Spring 2021 show for giving me serious posture and confidence goals)

xoxo

Starting my master’s degree program during COVID was so much harder than I suspected. Going to school without daily social interaction completely changed my ability to cope with my challenges. I’m not sure I realized just how extroverted I was until it was physically and legally not possible to be that way. I’ve been extremely careful. I don’t regret it because I’ve stayed healthy and I’ve kept the people around me healthy as well. But, doing what we must do to slow the spread of COVID is lonely and at times: heartbreaking.

This week I’ve cried almost every day. Why? I have to choose between seeing my family more or my chamber groups more in December, and there is no situation in which I can do both. I am 95% certain I will go home in Thanksgiving and therefore lose weeks of rehearsal, but I have cried so much over that decision. I don’t want to disappoint anyone I love, and I don’t want to have to quarantine from everyone.

Last week, I had to self-quarantine because I had a cold that was eventually proven to not be COVID. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Every minute I was in my singular room I wished I was with Yijin instead. I had been with her the entirety of COVID. Whatever unstable insanity was happening outside of our bubble, we had always had each other.

The past two weeks I finally had to face up to the fact that living during COVID just sucks. I’ve been trying to make lemonade from lemons for almost a year. But, here’s the thing, sometimes there is simply not enough sugar to make lemonade from the lemons of 2020. Sometimes, it is just not possible.

Today I went running in Kezar Stadium to deal with all of my horrible feelings about 2020. Why is it so unfair? Why can’t God end COVID? Why can’t they distribute the vaccine faster? Why did this have to be a part of human history anyways? Why did I have to live through it? Why is it that every time I get to the top of a personal mountain, there is another one? Why is life consistently emotional mountain after mountain after moutain, and where is the break in the climb? What do we do when we run out of hope again and again and again?

Here is what I determined. I don’t have any of the answers to those questions. But, if I made it through having melanoma and endometriosis, I ought to be able to handle 2020. Sometimes, there isn’t lemonade. Sometimes, you just drink straight lemons. But, if you’re strong enough, you can still survive on lemon juice.

I know a lot of people have it harder in 2020. I know there are people that are actually in the hospital, people that are dying. I wear a mask everyday, even when I’m running, to prevent more of us from ending up in those hospital beds. But, we’re allowed to feel exhausted. We’re allowed to feel angry. We’re allowed to be upset. This is a universally depressing time.

But, friends, we’ve still got each other. We can’t touch. Often, we can’t see each other anywhere except a screen. But, we’ve still got each other. We can still love each other. We can still hold each other with our hearts. I know I wouldn’t have made it through this semester without the many, many calls and facetimes with my mom. I wouldn’t have made it through this semester without the regular checkins with my whole family. I wouldn’t have made it through this semester without Dimitri consistently encouraging me. I wouldn’t have made it through this semester without Yijin’s unwavering support and kindness every single day. I wouldn’t have made it through this semester without my dear, beautiful friends Teresa and Emily and Kate. I wouldn’t have made it through this semester without my spontaneous, hilarious, fun and profound neighbors and buddies: Michail, Kieran and Nick. I wouldn’t have made it though the semester without my quartet’s support. I wouldn’t have made it through this semester without the dear College Writing students that I’m a TA for. This pandemic has helped me hold my relationships so, so dear. The ability to connect is one that I have taken for granted far too often.

Friends, we are strong. COVID-19 is a brutal beast, but we will eventually conquer it. 2020 is a complete disaster, but we will get through it. We’ve made it through our past obstacles, and reached the peaks of our previous mountains, so I know we can do this. I love you all so much. I’m here for you while we climb our mountains and survive on lemon juice.

I don’t like fighting. I don’t like arguing.

I like hugs and kisses instead.

This is one reason I have often avoided writing about politics.

However, it has become increasingly clear that if I value hugs and kisses for everyone, I need to fight.

I never thought that the value of human life would be a political argument. I never thought people would side with killers. I never thought that I would live in a country where minor crimes would be punishable by death, without trial. I never thought I would live in a country where people legitimately argued that death was a proper response to any misdemeanor. I thought I lived in country built on the ideas of equality, respect, love and diversity.

I was wrong.

I’m not going to try to explain why we should value human life more in America, and especially Black lives. Plenty of people have explained that better than I ever could. But also, it shouldn’t be a question. If we have even a fraction of love for humankind– we should understand that murder is not a proper response to any crime or any behavior. We should also understand that we cannot call people guilty without proper trial. We should also be able to see when minorities in America are treated blatantly worse than white Americans. It shouldn’t be a political debate. It should be human decency and logical commonsense.

Unfortunately, it is a political debate.

I have grown up in the Mormon church. Sometimes I have been more involved, sometimes I have been less involved. But my involvement has definitely given me a strong understanding of Christ’s teachings.

I know there are a lot of Mormons voting for Trump. There are a lot of mainstream Christians voting for Trump too.

This is my plea with my fellow Christians to NOT do that.

When Christ told people to not throw stones at the adulteress unless they were sinless, I’m sure he was also speaking to those who use brute force in the criminal justice system.

When Christ said that no one had sinned to make the blind man lose his sight, I’m sure he was also telling us that privilege is usually unrelated to righteousness and that often the very best of people can end up in the worst of circumstances.

When the woman with a bleeding condition she’d had for twelve years touched his robe to be healed, Christ didn’t ask if she had a small fortune to pay for the healing.

When Christ told us to love one another, I don’t think he made any exceptions to whom we were supposed to love.

Some people might find this sacrilegious but I think if Christ were alive today, he’d vote democrat. I think if Christ were alive today, he’d ask us to end the cruelty in this country. I think if Christ were alive today, he’d ask us to love everyone and stop judging them for sinning in a different way than we do.

To be honest, if he didn’t want that, I’m not sure I’d want to follow him.

So please, if you consider yourself a follower of Jesus Christ, don’t vote for Donald Trump. NOT AGAIN. I think that if Trump wins this election, God will cry. And to be honest, so will I. Because if we let Trump win again, we will be telling the world that we don’t value human lives equally, that we don’t love everyone. We will be saying that we don’t love women, minorities, immigrants, disabled people, impoverished people, or LGBTQ people.

Here’s the deal. God loves all those people. So if you don’t, stop pretending God is the reason.

As the old hymn says, “God is Love.”

This election, let’s prove that. Let’s prove it by voting for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

Last night my family and I watched Hamilton (on Disney Plus). One of the lines struck me in a new way: “America, you great unfinished symphony.”

I am not a composer, but I have tried writing music. It is in fact, the most difficult thing I have ever tried to do. Composing music requires facing up to your mistakes, to the notes that don’t sound good together and to the rhythms that don’t make any sense. It requires being brutally honest with yourself about what you’ve done well and what you’ve done badly. It requires painstakingly writing and rewriting chords until you find ones that fit together harmoniously. All of that is required, even if you are only going to write twelve bars of music for one instrument.

Now a symphony ? That’s a great feat for a composer and something they will not even attempt until they’ve successfully written in every other medium. Writing a symphony requires using every instrument of the orchestra to its very best. It requires understanding and using harmony so well that you can make a hundred people sound good together. It requires making those hundred people sound good together for thirty to forty minutes, which means writing thousands of measures of music.

Now Lin Manuel Miranda is a genius for tons of reasons, but this line: “America, you great unfinished symphony” is a truly incredible line because with that one phrase he is telling us what we need to do.

What do you do with an unfinished symphony ?

You finish it.

And how do you finish it?

You finish a symphony by finding every mistake in the thousands of measures, and painstakingly correcting each one. You finish a symphony by giving a beautiful part to each instrument, to every single person. You finish a symphony by finding a way for a hundred people to make something beautiful together. You finish a symphony through discipline, through hard work, through sweat and tears and crumpled up manuscript paper.

To finish the great unfinished symphony of America, we have a lot of mistakes to fix. We have a lot of parts to give more attention to. Anti racism education is the beginning of fixing this great unfinished symphony. We cannot have a beautiful symphony, if we are neglecting and hurting an entire section of the orchestra.

When the Black Lives Matter protests started this year, I was afraid. I was afraid of war. I have clinical anxiety and it is easy for conflicts to become national wars in my mind. I abhorred violence of all kinds, but I wasn’t properly understanding that these protests have come from lifetimes of mistreatment in America. The violence I should have abhorred the most was police violence. No one should ever feel unsafe in the presence of those that are supposed to protect. I made a mistake that I’ve been thinking about everyday.

I made the mistake of not expressing clearly and soundly that Black Lives Matter. In the words of a recent popular protest sign, “matter is the minimum”. I have a lot of work to do and a lot of mistakes to correct. But I’m willing to do that, so we can have a more beautiful symphony in which every person has a beautiful part that we listen to.

Symphonies don’t get finished without editing, and neither will we.

Our nation’s symphony will be difficult to finish, but it will be a work of art when it’s done.

We’ve got a lot of work to do. Let’s sit together at the piano and fix all these wrong notes.

January 2020 was a huge month of growth. It had to be. My grandmother died, but I still had to play two important auditions for graduate school on viola, with the recital length repertoire list they required. I prayed so hard that my grandmother would stay healthy at least until my recital was over– at least until the end of the year– and hopefully for the decade longer that we had expected– but God had other plans and she was ripped from our lives on only the third day of a new year. It was devastating. My grandfather had also died at thanksgiving, and I felt we had not even recovered from that. I was feeling heartbroken, and angry, and lacking in energy, and somehow I had to pull off these auditions.

What got me through was Greta Gerwig’s Little Women. For those familiar with the story of Little Women, Beth– the musical sister– dies young, leaving her sisters and parents to mourn her. When Beth gets ill she nobly says “We have to accept God’s will.” Jo, just as nobly (though perhaps less devout), says “God hasn’t met my will yet. What Jo wills shall be done.” But then, since Jo is not God, her determination can’t save Beth. Jo is still left alone, mourning her sister, and wishing that she had a partner to console her like her sisters did. It is in this moment of ultimate weakness that Jo begins her masterpiece novel: Little Women.

Disaster struck a fire in her heart and she made art from the fire.

I determined after watching the writing scene (three times) that I would do as Jo did. I would take the fire in my heart and make art out of it.

I think sometimes we see life as a hindrance to art: something that keeps us out of the practice room. But in fact, art without life is just dots on a page. It means nothing, absolutely nothing.

I have a good friend that told me recently that I was holding back emotionally when I played and I was. Playing with all of the emotions in my heart was too difficult because then I had to face them. I had to face missing my grandparents, I had to face being mad at God that they were taken from me in such a quick fashion, I had to face my loneliness, I had to face my fears, I had to face my utter desperation, I had to face the fact that I care so much about so many people and I could lose them. And I’ve never played better in my entire life. Because finally, I knew what the notes meant. Now when I play Bach D Minor it’s a plea with God. It is a prayer. It is crying in the dark and wishing my grandmother would come back to me. It’s no longer simply string crossings and chords. It’s actually art.

So when life happens, and we try to run away from it by going to the practice room, let us remember that life is the only thing that makes our work in the practice room beautiful anyways. Life– the good, the bad, the ugly– is the only thing that can turn notes on a page into ART. And for those of you that aren’t artists for a living, when life hits hard (and it always does eventually) try making art from the rubble. It might just get you through.