Down the Rabbit Hole

My Reluctant Little Star

30 Day Blogging Challenge
PROMPT May 15th
Share an instance when something blew your mind.

Wow, I really had to think about this prompt...there were too many instances that just didn't seem epic enough that came to mind at first. I felt like it should be something other than learning about the impressive migration habits of penguins or that potatoes can become positively toxic for you if they go bad. Those things were oddly mind-blowing but not to the same level I felt the prompt dictated. It felt like it should be something more personal to me. When I thought about it in those terms, one instance clearly came to mind...

My daughter has always been painfully shy. She would go non-verbal if any adult tried to address her and held herself back in many interactions with other children until only very recently. I very much worried she would miss out on so much her young life offered by hiding in the shadows. I feared she would be considered anti-social or rude that she would avoid answering questions or responding to friends who waved and smiled. We worked on it a lot. We worked on being open to the advances of friends and returning their verbal greetings with a smile and a wave if she didn't feel like saying "hi" right away. I talked to her teachers to make sure she was still participating in class discussions and speaking up when spoken too, at least in the academic settings.

She asked to take piano lessons and it seemed to help bring her out of her shell. She was pretty quiet, answering her instructor in mostly nods, but she applied herself. We learned there would be a recital that first year and my heart sank. How would my shy little girl who loathed being the center of attention, be able to play in front of a room full of strangers? Turns out, she could not. She skipped that inaugural recital. We watched her peers and fellow students each take their turn on the stage that first year. The teacher called her up at the end to give her a special award for being her youngest student at age 5. She insisted I go up with her to get her medal. She clung to my arm the whole way, hiding her face in my elbow when the crowd clapped for her.

By the time the second year recital came a year later, I honestly did not think she was ready. She was slated to go third. She had practiced and practiced her piece - a short, sweet little melody that she could almost play by heart. She was very, very nervous. We had taken special care to pick out a lovely dress and fix her hair into a cute bun, fitting for a classical music recital. She looked the part but she had been reluctant to even practice in front of anyone that wasn't her Dad or me and so I was worried for her. I knew how difficult this would be for her. She sat there, her music folder hugged tightly to her chest, her eyes laser focused on the ground. My stomach was suddenly sick with dread for her. The recital hall was full and several more people were standing in the back.

The first student finished their piece and everyone clapped. Then, suddenly they were calling Jaden's name. The student who was supposed to go before her had gotten cold feet so her 3rd place standing had moved up. I looked at my delicate little 6 year old with her startled expression and though, "that's it, she's not going to do it." Then, my incredibly shy daughter did something that complete blew my mind. She stood up. She walked to the piano, placed her music down and proceeded to play her recital piece.

Jaden played it all the way through to the end, stumbling only once but catching the mistake and moving on from it like her teacher had taught her too. Her face was a mask of concentration and when she finished, she stood and made a running bow back to her seat. The look of triumph on her face was echoed by the relief and pride in my own. I knew better than anyone how much my daughter had pushed herself to get to and get through her moment on stage. I was overjoyed and overrun with motherly pride. Jaden had blown my mind in the most beautiful way.

There have been a few more recitals now and while I am sure it doesn't get any easier for her, she puts in 100% every year. The songs have gotten more challenging but the music isn't the part that remains the most difficult for her to master. I am forever nervous for her each time. I must hold my breathe each performance until she finishes the because that first breathe in once she stands and bows, feels like heaven to my aching lungs. When the last notes of her piece are fading in my ears, I am rejoicing and celebrating with her. It is always a wonderful moment but somehow not as mind-blowing as watching her climb those stairs and play that first time.