I love what I do.
I love singing jazz in an ensemble and as a soloist. I love making music and spreading that to people and children who need an outlet like that. I love challenging myself and learning and growing as a musician, and I love thinking about the day I can change someone else's life like my music teachers have changed mine. But sometimes that just doesn't cut it.
The last six years, especially the last year and a half, have tested me and my family. My father's diagnosis, fight, and eventual loss to cancer has dominated my teen/adolescent life. Not once, however, during this fight have I taken a break.
My high school years were kept jam-packed leading in musicals and plays, traveling with my choirs, doing volunteer work locally and internationally, taking AP courses, eventually leading the student governments in both choir and theatre, and (of course) building strong family ties. One week after my dad's death I was still pushing through as Mrs. Potts in my school's production of Beauty and the Beast. I did not believe in letting my family's situation slow me down.
Despite encouragement to take some time off after my turbulent senior year before committing to a college, I auditioned for and entered Columbia Basin College's FreeForm, a competitive and highly-ranked jazz choir located in Eastern Washington. I am currently two quarters in, and I repeat- I love what I do. I just don't know if I love where I am (locationally, emotionally, et al.) or who I'm with.
Sticking to the plan has always been my number-one priority. I have hand-picked my education path in order to participate in what I consider the best ensembles and study under who I consider to be the best educators for what I want to do. A strict timeline and a full course load have been my constant companions. Deviating from the plan has always been my biggest fear, but I have learned, and am still learning, that I am not always in control.
Social situations in my new home at CBC have brought to light once more my struggles with clinical anxiety and depression, forcing me to reevaluate this strictly budgeted plan for my education and eventual career that I may be pursuing at the expense of my mental health. I am no longer going to think of my life as the next 6-8 years of education and then my career. I am going to think of my life as today, and this week. Here and now I am abandoning my time budget and the expectations I have placed upon myself and adopting a philosophy thoroughly grounded in the present, with the only goal being happiness and healing. This is the first chapter.
