Just Tell Them It Was A Big Mistake

"Do you play the piano?"

I chuckled my awkward chuckle.

"I know there have to be closet piano players in here."

"Well, I've been thinking I should start playing again - but it has been years since I played." I said, knowing immediately it was a mistake that I said anything at all - should have stuck with my awkward chuckle or a sweet smile and nod.

"Great, I'll give you the pressure you need to practice! I'll be in France for the next two weeks and we need someone to play in Relief Society."

"Ah," was all I got out.

"Don't worry, they can't fire a volunteer. I'll let them know you'll pick the songs."

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So, I started practicing.

Let's just be clear. I took piano lessons more than 15 years ago for about 5 years, that was my parents required time length. I got out a little early because I also started playing the flute, and I was so over scheduled in high school that they made me a deal, letting me off early for good behavior.

Let's also be clear about this - when I say it's been years since I played the piano, I mean years. Maybe three times, mostly at Christmas time, over the past 3-5 years I've sat down and played a song on the piano. It's been at least six years since I played while anyone sang. [NOTE: for those of you who don't play the piano, it's a whole new ballgame to play once someone starts singing!]

On top of that, even when I did play, I can count on one hand the number of time I made it through a song while people sang without a major mistake [read people are singing while I'm not playing because I messed up so much and/or no right notes are played over multiple measures].

I decided to be brave, and I played while people were listening, and a five year old came in to listen to me.

"What have I done?" I asked him. "What was I thinking? I don't think I can do this."

He just looked at me, confused.

"The problem is, when people start singing, it goes like this," I said, then put my hands down on lots of random keys at the same time. I told them I could play the piano, but I really can't."

"Just tell them you made a big mistake, that you can't do it" his sweet, open face looked up at me.

I was tempted to do just that. Surely someone else could play.

Later he told his mom how when I play and people sing, "it goes like this" and he air plopped his hands on piano keys. "I told her to say it was just a mistake."

"That's right, it's okay to make mistakes," she told him. She was talking about the mistake of not playing the right notes, not the mistake of having volunteered.

She is right. It is okay to make mistakes. And all the cliche sayings about it not mattering how many times you fall, it only matters that you get back up one more time than the number of times you fall - they are all true, too.

I did it. I only played the top hand of the requested song. And I did not play it well. But I did it.

I was reminded that doing hard things is hard, but also empowering. And it makes doing other hard things easier.

My advice: volunteer for something hard. And if it doesn't go well, remember, it's okay to make mistakes, even big ones.