There was a moment about 3 quarters of the way thru last night’s performance at the Sydney Opera House where I knew the show was going great and that it would be great all the way to the end. I liken it to the final mile of a marathon. I’d already covered most of the ground and still had lots of energy in my reserves. I knew I wouldn’t be struggling with high notes or transitions, nor would my mind be busy recalling lyrics of songs that hadn’t been performed in a while. The back half of the set was my baby. All I had to do was hold it. Having made a few mistakes, on piano especially, I quickly learned what it felt like to play wrong notes on the infamous Opera House stage. It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would. In fact, playing thru the mistakes made it more comfortable. I felt superb. I’d made all the mistakes I could possibly make and still I was accepted by the sold out audience seated 360, on all sides. Better yet, I was still accepted by me. My preparedness had paid off. It was the second of two shows; the last of 4 sets. A career high well done. Every bit of chi I’d been saving up was overflowing from Hermes cup. I needn’t over-think, question, wonder or worry anymore. 10,000 hours had brought me to this place. More than a decade of hustle. And when I scanned my electronic security badge to exit the stage door, I felt as though I’d walked thru a symbolic portal into the next chapter of my life. A ribbon had fallen. A race was over. The Opera House, and every hall from here on out, would now be my Home.
This entry, written over brekkie, in my boardies, wearing my sunnies, is written in gratitude to the Aussies. Thank you for the invite. Thank you for the songs. Thank you for the listen. And thanks for singing along. Many many thanks to all those who drove from Melbourne. Paul and Emma. Those who flew from the north, south and west. You are the best. Blessings to you Suze and Chugg and everyone at Chugg. And to my awesome Warner Family. You are Loved.