Each year my church has what’s called “Youth Sunday”.
On Youth Sunday, the teenagers of our church take over the worship service.
They sing in the choir.
They take up the offering.
They run the service.
What I love about Youth Sunday is its rawness.
It is unpolished.
It is a bit unpredictable.
It makes me lean in and pay attention.
During this past year’s Youth Sunday service, a young lady played a violin piece that was absolutely stunning. Let’s call her Natasha.
Our music minister, Bryan, accompanied her on piano.
Bryan is an accomplished musician and singer with such an array of tastes and talents it simultaneously awes and depresses me.
While Natasha was glued to the sheet music, Bryan had his eyes on Natasha.
As Natasha’s pace and pitch wavered ever so slightly in one direction or the other, Bryan adjusted his accompaniment to where she was.
I encounter and read many people trying to architect their creative lives like Natasha’s violin playing.
They think they need sheet music.
They think they need to always be in tune and in time.
They think the goal is to play the song of life perfectly. Whatever that means.
But our greatest breakthroughs come from accidents and experiments. And unexpected detours.
We deepen through life’s tendency to cut us and kick us in the ass.
What makes Youth Sunday so engaging, so interesting, is the fact that it is real, raw and a refreshing change from the established pace of a typical Sunday.
I think Bryan’s playing holds a key.
There is joy in accompanying others so that they can shine.
There is joy in finding creative blends that can add depth and texture to something being done no matter how rote or imperfect.
It requires mastery on our part. But we can do this as writers and artists.
We can do this as parents. Friends. Employees. Bosses. And teachers too.
It seems life's joy lies in our finding ways to creatively blend with others and bring beauty out of whatever song is being played at the moment.
(photo by Ali Wade on Flickr)
Keitharsis helps writers & artists get and stay unstuck in their creative lives (and real ones). New essays published each Tuesday and Thursday. Invite your friends to read!