I can play, but I can’t sustain.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how much of “letting go, and letting God” holds water.  I’ve seemingly always acted on ego, instinct, and a sense of self-righteousness.  This is not to stroke a long-standing superiority complex, nor a superman syndrome that is coming into its golden years.  It’s more that I catch myself trying to balance between what level of interfering I need to undertake, and what amount I should simply let go of and trust that the universe is working under a divine plan.  I just heard that our life is like a Looney Tunes episode wherein Wile E. Coyote is about to fall down another deep canyon as he clings hopelessly to a loose outcropping of stone.  The stone (inevitably) gives and they fall together into a nearly infinite ravine.  What’s funny is when Mr. Coyote reaches out and grabs hold of that falling rock, to give him some false sense of security.  They fall together and end up a puff of dust as shown from above. 

After 3 months of waiting patiently, I picked up the piano.  This instrument has been kindly loaned to me in a concerted effort to get me closer in touch with creativity and discipline.  Upon picking up the instrument, gleeful and giddy, I plugged it in to find that the part which I assumed didn’t need repair indeed does - the pedals.  I can play, but I can’t sustain. As I strike chords and run scales I find myself getting truly immersed, and better yet, lost.  This is my rock.  I’m still falling, but I feel good.  Let's just hope that puff of smoke doesn't await.