| “Our task as amateurs is not to play music perfectly but to love it deeply.”—Stephanie Judy, in her book Making Music for the Joy Of It |
Finding my niche as a musician has been the most important and difficult part of my musical journey. Memorizing the minor scales into the fourth octave and acquiring a fast double tongue technique were easy compared to the challenges I encountered during my quest to find my true musical self.
The dictionary defines a niche as “a shallow recess in a wall.” Imagine the ruins of an ancient building, with big stone bricks, and small hollowed-out spaces. In my mind’s eye I see an ancient woman stashing her corn kernels in one niche, and maybe her bone sewing needles in another.
Another definition for niche is “a position in life to which a person is well suited.” Since childhood, I’ve loved playing the flute. I was good at it, but I never aspired to be a professional musician. From the time I was twelve, I had a deep desire to teach blind children, and after earning my Master’s in Special Education I taught visually impaired children for thirteen years. I kept playing my flute, but felt confused about making music. I didn’t know where I fit in or what my niche looked like. I couldn’t understand why others younger than I were so much more competent, and I often felt shame about my playing. I didn’t want anyone to hear me.
One day, as if by accident – although I believe that nothing is truly an accident – I came across Stephanie Judy’s book, Making Music for the Joy Of It. That book changed my life, and I don’t say that about many books. For the first time, I had a name for what I was: an amateur musician. And I learned that being an amateur wasn’t a lesser form of being a professional. An amateur musician is something good and wonderful, and a source of pride in its own right.
“Our task as amateurs is not to play music perfectly but to love it deeply,” wrote Stephanie, and so I started looking for my niche.
In the course of my search, I found my way to several niches. When I was first invited to take my flute to church, my lack of confidence made me hesitant. But one Sunday morning, I did perform. Although I felt tentative and fearful, a desire was awakened to play in settings where spiritual consciousness flourishes, and now my frequent solos at church satisfy my soul.