Once upon a time I sat my teenage self down to consider career options, and what I had to say about the attraction of professional musicianship was this:
"I could be a singer-songwriter and I would spend as much energy on my lovingness as on my vocal cords."
Which may be true, given the popularity of songs about folks' love lives. Good song lyrics require insight -- and if you're introspecting you want to discover some lovingness, more than only angst. But what I didn't realize is that this beautifully demanding love-task is applicable, in less glamorous ways, in other professions (slash, life in general).
Love is needed: when, say, for example, perhaps I might not agree with the church's music director. I might get snapped at during rehearsal. And I still might have to lead the whole choir in prayer - lovingly - at the end of the night.
Less glamorous: consider that I don't actually have a magic wand that makes people do what i want them to, or serve on the committees that need serving. I have to call and beg. lovingly.
Even less glamorous: I am dependent on the kindness of my parishioners in many ways. A stranger here -- and an ignorant city girl no less -- I try to take their donations of food, firewood, socialization, know-how, etc, with gratitude. I got a long lecture on the proper use of drafts on the wood stove today, and I felt rather young, but i took it in -- lovingly?
I am trying. Fake it 'til you make it, is what the wise ones say.
Hey - at least I'm getting what my naive teenage self wanted!