On June 1 I retired from teaching piano. That word retire is not easy for me to say, but I am making myself use it as a way to honestly acknowledge a big decision.
(And just for the record, the house above with a wall of windows looking out on the water is not ours!)
For more than 35 years my workday afternoons have been filled with all sorts of fingers playing the piano, from very little ones to those savaged by arthritis, and all ages in between. Although it was often a frustrating job it was always rewarding and I had many students whom I came to love deeply. It was a gift to watch a young child tentatively place their hands on the keys and years later see them playing a Beethoven Sonata.
Teaching piano was not just about notes and rhythm-it was about helping someone reach into their soul and express what they found thru music. That was the most difficult part of teaching as well as the aspect I enjoyed most.
When we moved to Maryland almost 4 years ago I mistakenly assumed I would have all the students I wanted. And I was counting on that financially, too. I compared everything to my studio in Ellsworth/Bar Harbor, where I had a group of exceptional young pianists with supportive parents. Well, let's just say the past few years have taught me a lot about the folly of expectations. I struggled mightily to start a studio and even to convince my young students' families that piano was worth taking seriously.
At the same time that I was spinning my heels a growing call to something else started to emerge in my heart and I began to discern whether or not I should let the piano studio go. Contrary to my teaching, I was having much interest in my Quiet Day retreats both at church and a nearby retreat center. I felt energized and excited by this new work and knew that the Spirit was speaking. Last year I also received a certificate in Spiritual Direction and began offering this guidance to individuals.
It's so clear when I look back....but all the same giving up teaching was a hard decision. It has been a huge part of my adult identity and I've always felt privileged to do that work. I suppose it's good practice when even bigger retirements inevitably come along, such as church work and accompanying.
At the last recital on June 1 I felt like an observer, an outsider looking in. My head had said goodbye and I think my heart, too. It feels good, right.
