I remember one afternoon at piano lessons, learning a song with affetuoso tempo. When I asked my teacher about it, she explained that this term literally meant “with feeling,” that the song was meant to be played from the heart. She told me about a conductor who, if he wasn’t satisfied with the orchestra’s performance after finishing a piece, would famously order them to play it “once more, with feeling.”
Even as a middle schooler, I took the idea to heart. When things didn’t go well for me and I was trying to work up the courage to try again, I often thought to myself, “once more, with feeling.” Just the thought of throwing more heart into something, doing it one more time like I really meant it, gave me confidence that it would work out better. This wasn’t always the case (let’s just say there were many sad trips home on the days tryout results were posted), but saying that to myself gave me the courage to keep going back to do the things that scared the crap out of me.
To this day, I still say that phrase to myself when I know I need to do things that fear and memories are telling me I will fail. Right now, I’m starting to rebuild a life and career that are new and exciting and impactful and beautiful and terrifying all at once. My survival instinct is telling me that I will hurt people I care about and drive myself into illness again. Thankfully, this time around, I know how to be honest and kind and patient with myself when those fears feel stronger than my courage. To appreciate them for trying to save me from pain, to take what wisdom might be there, and keep going towards what I know is right. And to listen to that voice that says, “once more, with feeling.”
Photo backstory: Our first international trip to Japan, post-Acanthamoeba, loving the adventure and simultaneously terrified that all my new food sensitivities were going to kill me. Everything was, of course, fine, and we saw some of the most beautiful sights either of us have ever seen.
it's good to be here 