The More Things Change

Everyone has heard the expression, "the more things change, the more things stay the same." Well, I would like to take this opportunity to modify this supposedly tried and true saying to fit reality a little bit better. As of late, I've been finding the expression to go a little more like this: "the more things change, the more things change."

As young people, change in our lives is nearly unavoidable. We move a lot, we change circles of friends, we switch career paths, we date new people... For better or worse, our lives are rarely "settled" and are instead in a constant state of flux. For me at least, change has become so commonplace that I no longer recognize it as a deviation from the norm. I guess you could say I've learned to go with the flow. But every once in a while, some event will still surprise me; it will pop out of nowhere, and before I can brace myself for it there's CHANGE sticking its tongue out at me, taunting me like a playground bully as it squeals "bet you didn't see that one coming!"

The good news is not all CHANGE is our 2nd grade worst nightmare. Sometimes the changes that most surprise us are the positive ones we never could have anticipated.

It can be difficult to accept these sorts of positive "surprise attack" changes, because even though we know they are changes for the better, they are still unexpected. I personally have found it hard to sweep out the cobwebs of my past expectations in order to allow the positive changes around me to come into my life. In my case, these changes have often been in the form of people exceeding my expectations--be they a boyfriend, friends, or family. While this sounds like a good thing, it is challenging to throw away an old concept of someone or an antiquated set of expectations and welcome in the new person--whether that person is actually NEW, or even if the person has just made improvements that have rendered him or her changed.

The scary part about changes like these is that if you are not ready and willing to tear down the walls your past expectations insisted you build, you may prevent yourself from ushering these people into your life. And these people-- new or just changed--may have a lot to offer. So, what I'm learning is that maybe turning playground bully change into positive change is just a matter of getting rid of an old concept and changing your expectations. "The more things change, the more things change!"

Afraid of Heights

Have you ever found yourself realizing that there is a ladder right in front of you, and if you could just work up the courage to climb it, that you could reach new heights? Some people are blessed in that they are never afraid to take the steps that will lead them to the top; others are so paralyzed by fear that they can not even put one foot on the first rung--and some, like me, make it about half way up the ladder and then realize that a decision needs to be made. I can either turn around now before the rest of the climb gets too scary and risky, or I can go to the top where, of course, there is always the possibility of falling--of plummeting down with nothing to catch me.

Last week I made a trip to Boston. As some of you know, I did my first year of college at Boston Conservatory doing flute performance. Going to a conservatory for college had always been my dream, but when I finally made that dream a reality, it turned out not to be quite what I had hoped. I left the conservatory after my first year feeling dejected and burnt out. I didn't know what to do with myself and for the first time in about 9 years, I had almost no desire to touch my flute.

I transferred to another school and for a few months felt completely lost. I was still taking flute lessons, though. Despite my best intentions to keep flute as 'a hobby,' my passion for playing gradually crept back. By my second semester at my new school I had once again decided to pursue serious playing.

I never quite felt certain about this decision, though. I knew I loved to play, but being a fairly practical and fairly indecisive person, I began once again to look for a safety net--something to catch me if I got half way up the ladder and decided it was too much for me, too hard for me. So I started to convince myself that I should once again abandon serious playing and go in the direction of music business or arts administration--some field that I thought would offer some mild certainty.

I tried very hard to straddle the line between attaining a high level of flute playing and keeping the business option open. As someone terrified of the future and afraid of being locked into anything, I wanted to have both the business and the flute possibilities at my disposal. But as it turns out, by not wanting to commit to either path, I've just been spreading myself too thin and not allowing myself to reach the top of either ladder.

This has all become very clear to me in the last few days. I went to Boston feeling confused as to what the next step in my life and career should be. I made the trip in the hopes that by being back in a city so full of life and art--a city that a musically ambitious and courageous 18 year old Mississippi girl moved to years ago--that some answers would come to me. And they did.

It actually wasn't just being around music and amazingly talented friends that made me realize that I need to really need to give flute my full attention, but it was an interesting evening involving a ladder that made the decision so clear to me.

One night while I was in Boston, my friends and I found ourselves at an apartment on Newbury Street. Surrounded by artsy hippies and other such characters, I was convinced to join the party on the roof of the apartment. With some coaxing, I decided to climb up. I stood on top of a stool, then lifted one leg to pull myself up on to the top of the refrigerator, and then proceeded to climb a makeshift ladder on the wall. With a little luck, I made it on to the roof. And once I was there, WOW. The risk and fear of climbing up the somewhat unconventional ladder was totally worth it--the view of the city at night was spectactular.

Once I was on the roof, my friends and I began to have a conversation with a fellow. When we asked what he did for a living, he remarked that he sells real estate, but that he "used to go to film school." And that's when I knew.

Right then, while standing on a roof overlooking the city after scaling a crazy ladder, it came to me that I NEED to play the flute. At that moment I knew that I didn't want to end up like the filmmaker turned real estate agent--a person who traded their dreams for something practical, something easier, something SAFER.

So I'm back in New Orleans now, and for the first time in a long time, I know what I need to do. While my ladder toward success in music may not be the safest or the most conventional, it is the ladder I choose to climb. From now on, I, Hilary Jones, am no longer afraid of reaching new heights.