Being Useful

I really enjoy being useful. I think most people do. This is one reason why I have earned the reputation in my house as the vacuum fixer. Now before you give me too much credit, the only problem our vacuums have had so far are snapped belts which is a pretty easy fix. (Thank goodness for that too because when you have five women living in one house the amount of hair that winds itself around the vacuum brush is ridiculous.) However, there is no denying that I get a definite feeling of satisfaction as I unfasten the bottom of the vacuum (all the while humming "Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy" from Once), decipher the issue, and come up with a ready solution. I like the fact that the way my brain works can be of use to those around me.

I think that is one reason why I love teaching oboe lessons. This week was the start of fall lessons for two of my students and it was actually bittersweet for me, which came as a bit of a surprise. Not so much surprise that I felt a little sad -- it will be my last semester teaching them so that part makes sense -- but more that this out of anything in my life right now would bring that emotion out of me. I think it comes from the thought that I will be replaced, which is a bit of a pathetic commentary on my pride, and the feeling is especially keen because I have invested so much personally into my students. As their teacher I have adapted to each different personality and level so that I can be of most use and help to them while they learn. I will certainly miss them as people (one bright & talkative, another blunt & sarcastic, and still another a sweet & intuitive) but I think the sting comes that in a few months I will no longer be of practical significance to them.

Incidentally, my initial journey to the Middle East two years ago was due to an online posting from a missions organization asking for people with a background in ethnomusicology. It of course caught my attention because, believe it or not, there really aren't that many postings from organizations looking for my particular set of specialized & obscure skills and training. Despite that tantalizing hook, my first feeling was actually one of "Really, God?" since in all the previous months of praying and searching for an internship I had quite deliberately steered clear of missions organizations (for reasons it would take too long to explain in this post). Yet obediently I went and one of my greatest joys during those three months was that of finding my skills useful in a foreign setting. Needless to say, last winter when I saw that the same organization was looking for ethnomusicologists again, there was much less hesitation before I began my pursuit.

...well, this post rambled a little longer than I originally intended...