I Didn’t Expect This To Happen At A High School Band Recital

Last night at my oldest child’s school band concert, the most unexpected thing happened: I teared up.

But it’s not for the reason you might be thinking of.

I was chomping on Starbursts, minding my own business, when boom — I got smacked in the feels.

Up until then, I was quietly planning our departure from the performace hall aka the gym — perhaps soon after our son’s band finished, we’d head out.

But after my son was finished, he sat down beside us and told us he wanted to watch until the end.

Dammit.

Part of me didn’t want to stay, as I’m always bracing myself for potential second-hand embarrassment or cringe, which has everything to do with me and nothing to do with the musicians on stage.

But here’s the thing: all the performers were FANTASTIC.

There was Chopin, Kayne, showtunes, jazz standards, movie soundtracks, Canadian 90s rock, folk, and even a guitar band playing original songs.

It was wildly entertaining.

What brought me to tears wasn’t that I was simply proud of my son (I am proud of both my boys)…it was the joy of music coming together, the creation of something more powerful than the sum of the parts, even with squawking clarinets and screechy trumpets.

What got me wasn’t the emotion of the music, but the spark and embers of my old dreams — that of playing and composing music professionally.

17-year-old Paul came out, the one where the feeling that anything was possible, and where music was the brightest star in the constellation that he gazed most upon.

It was the fulfillment of a promise-in-progress, the deep pull of a soul’s desire, and the love of something that hung in the air like the fading final note of a sonata.

That part of me which is still here.

I know my dream is not impossible, but most unlikely now.

That’s okay, for while I still play the flute for fun, I can still channel that energy into other areas in my life.

I still yearn to create more, and to touch others with what comes forth.

It just won’t be at the end of a woodwind.

But it can come from my voice, my words, my actions.

I can breathe life into something worthwhile, just as I can put breath into a flute.

I say this to remind you that dreams don’t always die — they just change form.

Stop lamenting what’s passed — focus on what you can do right now to scratch that soul’s itch you may be feeling.

Starburst?

Nah, star shine.

I’m a life and leadership coach. And if you’re looking for help in tapping into that authentic badass that’s always been there but shellacked in old stories and limiting beliefs, then message me here or visit me at www.therealpaulsilva.com — it’s literally what I do. I have helped hundreds find their true voice to that they can make stronger decisions and change the direction of their lives. Self-leadership is the most potent leadership.