Silence and Stillness

Moments of silence, moments of stillness... this is how I need to prepare my music.  Sure, I am as rushed as anyone.  And when we feel rushed, how do we prepare music?  I make the necessary markings, make some decisions that I know I can change later, try to avoid listening to any recordings but spend time playing through the music, and make sure I can sing through any parts that I can't sight-read with confidence.

But who wants to live in music that way?  That's not preparing music; at least, not really preparing music.  For me to understand, to love, to live, to help the music sing, I need to spend time in silence and stillness.

Well, stillness for sure.  And "silence" is relative, because there is internal hearing.  There is sound in my head.

I am on a road trip visiting family, and I have not opened up my music yet to prepare it for the fall.  I have my binder stocked and ready to go.  It's waiting to be prepared.  But in the midst of reading a textbook for my Seminar in Music Literature class, preparing rubrics and assignments, designing a schedule for the semester, creating syllabi... I don't want to shove in music preparation for five minutes here and five minutes there.

So one thing I am preparing to do is to carve out sacred time in which I prepare music.  It has to be time when my brain and inner ear is fresh.  I'm recommitting to musical music preparation, not music preparation done in short bits that feels stale.