Battling

OK. I tried the just forget about it approach, telling myself it's all mental and there's really not a problem, so why can't it go back to feeling the way it used to when I would play? I tried trying to make my fingers strong, but different teachers will tell me different things about whether that's good or bad, and I'm probably making too big a deal out of it. I tried physical therapy. Now, after my lesson with Dr. Rosenkranz, this is what I'm going off of: give my weight to the keys, but don't let my wrist flop down--maintain a solid arch with good shock absorption; remember to lift fingers--they don't have to do ALL the work but they do have to do their job; think in terms of impulses--always start from above and incorporate lots of clean lifts from the keyboard while playing (this sort of conflicts with a thrust motion I learned from Niehaus, but the more I think about it, maybe it doesn't have to).

I still can't decide whether the warmups I do are helpful or not, because sometimes I won't do them and I won't notice a difference. Today I didn't do one. And today it felt horrible to play for the first 45 minutes or so. It felt so foreign and painful and I found out it's probably a bad move to play really introspective and emotional Beethoven sonatas when you're going through an emotionally difficult battle, because I got emotional in the practice room. I wondered WHY I have to be going through this, what I did wrong to deserve this. I probably believe in karma too much and I have a taste for drama. Anyway, the hopelessness got channeled into restless anger. I was not going to settle. I refused to believe I don't have control over the situation, so I stopped being weepy and started bouncing around trying to get the blood flowing into my hands. It was unbelievably chilly indoors for December, and I wondered if that had anything to do with anything. I did some rapid sun salutations next to the 9-foot grand I was lucky enough to snag. I swear every bone in my body cracked; I must not have moved very much today (makes sense since I was sitting in an office all day). I threw my arms around until they were floppy like Raggedy Ann and they had no choice but to be limp and relaxed. I blew hot air on my palms and rubbed them together like I was trying to start a fire. I screamed at my brain in case it was playing a trick on me and fabricating the pain.

Then I kept Rosenkranz's wisdom in mind and sat down to play again. Something worked, at least a little. I could play the Chopin nocturne with enough volume to create satisfying angst at the climax, which was enough. God I miss being able to run downstairs in my PJs, throw my hands on the keyboard, and go. It used to feel so good. I wonder if every great pianist has gone through a physical battle like this. Except it's not just physical. In fact, on a bad day, it's heartbreaking.