The Fears That Bind Us.

I remember when I first joined the Navy I was scared to death. Scared of needles, paperwork, RDCs (essentially a drill Sergent), and countless other things. I had no idea what I was doing, and I really didn't want to be there when I first started. But as I became accustomed to the things that I feared, and as I woke up every morning with these things looking at me in the face, I realized that there wasn't really anything to fear, and I overcame them. I made it through the School of Music the exact same way, and found out that learning music isn't impossible or scary. There are a lot of good memories that I keep from those places; not because they were enjoyable, but because I grew, became stronger, and overcame my fears and ignorance. When I went to my first band I had fears of not fitting in, and not being a good enough trombone player. While most the people that I worked with had at least a bachelor's degree I didn't attend college for any length of time. Heck, I'd only had one private lesson my whole life. Now from my past experiences, one would conclude that I would simply overcome what fears I had, and grow stronger; but it wasn't the case in this instance. You see, the people that I worked with at the time fed into my fears. The environment was different. In Boot Camp and in school people know that you're ignorant and scared. They make it their business to help you overcome what you lack by pushing you on and encouraging you. But when you're out in the real world, you find out just how cold and barren it is. I don't want to say that people don't care, but that they don't take notice. I realized that people would talk about me not being good enough, not being smart enough, and many other things. This made me very bitter, and the love and passion that I had had my whole life for music became a dead thing that I hated and wanted nothing to do with. It made me not want to practice, hang around other musicians, or even listen to music. The excitement I once had for telling people I was a musician died, and I made it a point to never tell people that I was a musician. In short time I was sent for temporary assignment to be a cop that stood at the gate and checked people's IDs. I really didn't enjoy the work, but it was a relief to be away from the thing that I hated and feared. Nobody contacted me while I was assigned there except for one instance concerning the advancement exam. I was supposed to be there for 6 months, but I stayed for 8 thinking that I would ride out the rest of my enlistment, get out of the Navy, and go home to Oregon. Eventually, however, I was sent back to the band and told to start practicing my trombone again (which I didn't want to do) and prepare for gigs again. The bitterness had grown in my heart towards musicians and music so much at this point that I thought all musicians were cold, calculating back stabbers. I wanted nothing to do with them. However, I continued to do my job and practice as little as was possible to get by without getting in trouble. At some point in time, I started to like how it felt to play the trombone. I still didn't like the sound seeing as it was an instant reference to pain and bitterness, but it was a new kind of enjoyment. I suppose that if one must do a thing he or she loathes, eventually some enjoyment must be derived or insanity will set in (I might have a little of that as well). As time progressed I went through the normal peaks and valleys of life and decided that it would be possible to enjoy playing music for the rest of my enlistment, but I was in no way going to become fully dedicated to it as it had already scarred me in the past (or so I thought). But the more I practiced, the more I started enjoying the music. However, I still wasn't fully dedicated to staying in the Navy or becoming a lifelong musician. I enrolled in a vocational school and started planning on getting out. At some point in time, I started getting compliments in my playing. I don't remember when, but I remember it was new compared to my history of insults. This propelled me to want to practice more, and I felt more confident than ever about my trombone playing. Not to say I felt arrogant, but I felt secure to a degree. When I finally realized I didn't remain in the mire of people's malice, I started taking note of the "less than savory" players and how their attitudes aligned with mine loosely. Instead of being gently taken under an better player's wing and uplifted, I noticed that they were talked about behind their backs, laughed at, and even insulted to their faces in some cases. The saddest part about all this is that I joined in on some of these conversations (making me a hypocrite). A good friend of mine sobered me up thankfully and I started to understand the root of my original hatred of the musician business. The reason that I hated music is because the "educated" people took the art of music and made it solely a science. Instead of enjoying it and uplifting one another to become a better band, individuals would put one another down to both make themselves feel more confident and to make sure that all were aware of their education. Instead of experiencing the beauty of music; feeling it, smelling it, and tasting it; it was put on a shelf in a museum to be solely looked at and discussed. And to me this was and is a great tragedy. At this point in my life I believe that I've regained a true love for music, but I'm still unsure of a future with me in the Navy. I don't want to hate music ever again, and I don't want to become a (so called) "educated" person, thinking that just because they've sat through lectures and read books on the subject that they're better than others. I believe that if I do stay in, I will make it my personal business to combat that evil and ensure that others don't fall into the same ditch that I did. I believe that education is good, but I believe that humility is better. And hand in hand a world can change for the better for a good, long while.