The Price of Passion
Maddy slid open the van door and threw her piano books on the floor so hard they scattered across the gray carpet. “I’m quitting piano.”
“What?” I glanced in the rearview mirror at my ten-year-old daughter, piano prodigy extraordinaire.
“I messed up.” Giant tears hit first, heavy sobs lagging only a second behind. “I practiced all week.” She sunk in the seat, yanked on the belt, and clicked the buckle in place. “And it was hard.”
“I get it,” I said. “You put in the time and effort and you wanted her to tell you what a great job you did and how fabulous the piece sounded.”
“I wanted a sticker.” She sniffed and kicked the back of the seat. “A sticker means I played it perfect.”
Do you ever have moments like that? I do.
Aiming to be the best at what I do, I slave at something, put in the hours, forgo other activities, with the hope that my hard work will pay off. I want the validation. I want the pat on the back. I want the sticker. And it kills me when I don’t get it.
Questions plague me. Why? What did I do wrong? How could it have been better? The failure eats me up inside, crushes my heart, kills my motivation. And sometimes the failure, even the near miss to perfection, hurts so bad, so deep, so much that quitting feels like the right thing to do.
With great passion comes great pain. The frustration and hurt when I fail is the other side of the greatness of success. And if I rid myself of one, I lose the other.
It’s my passion that makes me shine. My passion that sets me apart. My passion that pushes me to compete against myself and strive to do better every single time. It’s my passion that makes me who I am.
Here’s the rest of the conversation from the van.
“Maddy, if you didn’t get so upset about the mistakes, you wouldn’t push yourself so hard to be better.”
“What do you mean?” She crossed her arms and sniffed.
“The thing that makes you hurt so much inside when you don’t get it right, is the thing that makes you great when you finally master the piece. Hate piano today. Quit until the morning, and tomorrow take a deep breath, get back on the bench, and let your fingers fly across the keys because you are amazing.”
Passion and pain. What do you think?
10 Comments
Steve Miller
Great advice. Well said.
Lori Freeland
Thank you. You get that, huh? I think all creatives live a “sink or swim” life. What’s good is awesome. What’s not is the opposite 🙂
DiAne Gates
Oh my, have I been right there with Maddy. But big people don’t throw books on the floor. Right? I think that’s one really good thing about our critique group. Whatever the changes we must make in our masterpieces, there are also encouraging words, plenty of loving support, and good ideas to carry us over the bumpy spots.
But you said it so well, there’s always morning. What is that God says? “Weeping lasts for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” I know that’s stretching the translation, Lori. That was sound advice for all of us.
DiAne
Lori Freeland
Sometimes big people do throw books on the floor 🙁 Sad to say.
Rachelle
I needed to hear this today. There is no passion without pain, which is so easy to forget when you’re getting rejection letters. But writing makes every scar worth the wound. It’s why we endure the tough times. It’s what makes us who we are. You’ve hit it just right. Thanks, Lori!
Lori Freeland
I need to hear this everyday!
Vonda Skelton
Great analogy, Lori! Passion and pain are the perfect combination for success!
Lori Freeland
Thank you!
shae
Wow, timing. yes… I know this feeling well. was just thinking about some quitting today. feelings that i’ll never get it right. ready to put everything away one more time because there is so much work to all this. it always seems easer to quit that to keep on keeping on until the goal, the destination, is reached. sigh. okay, so i’ll pick myself up off the floor one more time. 🙂 Thanks.
Lori Freeland
Pick yourself up, girl, today. You can do this!