Carpe...
*Sigh...*
I'm here in a hotel room, late at night--or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it--and I can't sleep. Melissa is next to me, oblivious to the world around her (DEAD asleep), and I can't even move.
Today will mark the most daring thing I have ever done. I want this so badly. I mean, I can freakin' TASTE the possibility of a music career, but I am so scared...so scared. Why do I do this to myself? I mean, I'm HERE--two blocks away from the audition site, and I want to turn around and run, or just forget about it. I want to hide. I want to just resign myself to the fact that I'm ordinary, and that there' s nothing special about me. I want to sit and be the me I'll settle for, not the me I want to be, and the me I know I can be.
Tomorrow from 10am-6pm, there are open calls for a TV program called "Nashville Star," a sort of country version of American Idol. And I'm going. I'm doing this. Not because of what anyone has said (although I've been encouraged to do this sort of thing for a long time), but because as I live my days and months and years, as I drive to and from work and to and from home and everywhere else, as I talk to students and listen to their problems and find new ways to teach them, there's this voice in my head that won't shut up. It constantly berates me into a corner, where I sit afraid. The problem is, I've finally figured out that I'm afraid of nothing. I look up from my proverbial corner, and there's nothing there--only a reflection of myself. I see someone sitting, so I refuse to stand up, because God forbid I actually be the only one standing, or the first one to do so at all.
I'm finished with that berating voice. I'm tired of a reflection that will do what I tell it to, anyway! It's over; no more fear of nothing. Instead, I'm waking up tomorrow, having breakfast with Melissa, getting my guitar, and taking it two blocks from where I sit now, and I'm going to leave every doubt, every question, every consideration--every hope and dream--in an audition room somewhere with a few folks sitting at a table listening to me. I'm going to try--can you believe that? I can hardly believe it myself, but finally, I'm TRYING to live my dream, the one I've been so afraid of failing at for years and years. I'm 33--when am I going to finally TRY to do anything at all? What's the worst that can happen? I have a great life: a wife who loves me, friends who would give their lives for me, a family that believes in me, and a school I can call home (and my students there, as always, are the best). The worst that could happen is that they (whoever they are) say "no" to my musical pursuits, and I turn around and come home.
But what IF?...
What if they like me? What if they see potential? What if I actually do well, and have a chance to compete? I think about it, and I get all jittery--I get an adrenaline rush that runs through my veins at lightning speed...AAHHHHHH!
Here's the thing:
There's never a "what if" if I never go there to find out. So I'm going. And whatever comes of this, I'll be made a better man because I dared to try. And for years, I've hated watching those who try achieve, while I watch, resentful, from the wings. How foolish...
I'll keep you all posted. This should be fun!
- El Ruiz
I'm here in a hotel room, late at night--or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it--and I can't sleep. Melissa is next to me, oblivious to the world around her (DEAD asleep), and I can't even move.
Today will mark the most daring thing I have ever done. I want this so badly. I mean, I can freakin' TASTE the possibility of a music career, but I am so scared...so scared. Why do I do this to myself? I mean, I'm HERE--two blocks away from the audition site, and I want to turn around and run, or just forget about it. I want to hide. I want to just resign myself to the fact that I'm ordinary, and that there' s nothing special about me. I want to sit and be the me I'll settle for, not the me I want to be, and the me I know I can be.
Tomorrow from 10am-6pm, there are open calls for a TV program called "Nashville Star," a sort of country version of American Idol. And I'm going. I'm doing this. Not because of what anyone has said (although I've been encouraged to do this sort of thing for a long time), but because as I live my days and months and years, as I drive to and from work and to and from home and everywhere else, as I talk to students and listen to their problems and find new ways to teach them, there's this voice in my head that won't shut up. It constantly berates me into a corner, where I sit afraid. The problem is, I've finally figured out that I'm afraid of nothing. I look up from my proverbial corner, and there's nothing there--only a reflection of myself. I see someone sitting, so I refuse to stand up, because God forbid I actually be the only one standing, or the first one to do so at all.
I'm finished with that berating voice. I'm tired of a reflection that will do what I tell it to, anyway! It's over; no more fear of nothing. Instead, I'm waking up tomorrow, having breakfast with Melissa, getting my guitar, and taking it two blocks from where I sit now, and I'm going to leave every doubt, every question, every consideration--every hope and dream--in an audition room somewhere with a few folks sitting at a table listening to me. I'm going to try--can you believe that? I can hardly believe it myself, but finally, I'm TRYING to live my dream, the one I've been so afraid of failing at for years and years. I'm 33--when am I going to finally TRY to do anything at all? What's the worst that can happen? I have a great life: a wife who loves me, friends who would give their lives for me, a family that believes in me, and a school I can call home (and my students there, as always, are the best). The worst that could happen is that they (whoever they are) say "no" to my musical pursuits, and I turn around and come home.
But what IF?...
What if they like me? What if they see potential? What if I actually do well, and have a chance to compete? I think about it, and I get all jittery--I get an adrenaline rush that runs through my veins at lightning speed...AAHHHHHH!
Here's the thing:
There's never a "what if" if I never go there to find out. So I'm going. And whatever comes of this, I'll be made a better man because I dared to try. And for years, I've hated watching those who try achieve, while I watch, resentful, from the wings. How foolish...
I'll keep you all posted. This should be fun!
- El Ruiz