“Would it be okay if I brought my keyboard?”

My friend was having a party. We’d met at the place where I do my open mic, but she always had to work on open mic night. As I was getting ready to go to the party that night it occurred to me that I could finally play for her.

After all, it was just a party at her house. I could do a song or two if it were quiet, and she’d finally get to hear me.

I was not ready to play FOR REAL. I’ve been practicing and learning songs, but no way was I ready to do a real show. I was not good enough, I didn’t have enough songs in a row—how many songs did I have? Not enough, and I even the ones I had I couldn’t play well enough.

I have been wanting to. I have a few places I could  play for, once I was ready.

So I got the idea to bring my keyboard to the party, that was a perfect fit. I wasn’t promising to be good or anything, I could play around, like it was a toy. Toys are welcome at a party.

I came in with my potluck dish, and said hello.

“Did you bring your keyboard?” she asked right away.

Oh! Sure, I’ll go get it.

I unpacked, setting up my cables and   I tried to make it background noise level.

That’s not what they wanted. The host turned it up.

And the guests clapped and called out requests.

I kept playing. I must have played for two hours.

I played the songs I didn’t really know. It didn’t matter like I thought it did.

It would seem the barriers were all in my mind.

If I can make music, and the people can enjoy it, that might be the highest quality that counts.