Proud ...

I am quietly proud of myself right now. Very proud. I hope you don't mind.

After years of waiting, after changing my life utterly, I reunited with my old guitarist this evening. Yes, THAT one. From the band with the initials CG. If you're reading this blog, I've probably told you the tale.

I did a lot of thinking today, as I was waiting for him to arrive. He gave me ample time for this, as he was four hours late. (Some things never change.) How many times have I asked myself, "How do I play the drums now, after all this time away, after all that's happened?" Tonight I got my answer.

Though he's seen me a few times since 2009, it's been awhile. And since I never stay the same for very long, if you disappear from my life for almost two years, there will undoubtedly be vertigo when you return, as you try to figure me out. He was trying to hide it, but it was there.

I was fine with that. I expected it. What I didn't expect was my reaction to him.

He pulled out his new guitar, this flashy new fretless harp guitar contraption that he was given as an endorser for this new guitar company, and started to play. We had agreed not to look backwards, not to play our old material, so he began to play some things he'd been working on.

There were a few inspired moments, but it was clear that he'd only recent gotten the instrument, which has two necks and requires an amended playing style. He is still a world class player, of course, but honestly ... there were no songs, no extended ideas I could contribute anything to.

Now, here's why I am proud of myself.

In my old life, I would have just started playing anyway. I would have used all of my drums and cymbals and clattered around with brio in an attempt to make something happen. But there I was, same instrument, same old room, same collaborator, and I couldn't even think of doing that.

I chose silence.

I sat there quietly, and let him struggle. I played for maybe fifteen minutes total, out of two hours. Since returning to music in 2011, my mantra has been play what the music requires. This music, in its unfinished state, required silence. So that's what I played. It seemed to unnerve him.

Also, and I will not lie about this, getting closer to Beth Ann and building our musical and personal connection, definitely had an effect on my actions and reactions this evening. There is such a girl power vibe that BA and I have when we play, and that obviously was not there this evening, with this man who essentially lives in his own head. This is not a small thing.

Right as he was leaving, around 1030, Jason called, and I got to give him a quick update of what had just happened. His enthusiastic response was a perfect compliment to my own knowing, that one really cannot go backwards in life. Not after all I've seen and done.

Will T and I play again? I'm not sure. We say we will, but is there enough motivation : for him to play with someone he doesn't know anymore, who doesn't play like the person he thought he knew, or for me, to sit and essentially watch Picasso try to give birth to musical Cubism, while wishing I was sitting with my new musical BFF, talking and laughing and making people cry?

In four years of this new life, from coming to The Lady, to all the coming outs and ebbing and flowing, I'm not sure there has been a single event that showed me just how much I've changed. And I met it, head on, with intention, and didn't flinch.

I am quietly proud of myself right now. Very proud. I hope you don't mind.