Life and music

I'm writing to help me sort out my thoughts and so that I can remember them later. I've been thinking a lot about life and music; mostly because I can't really do much else while I'm still injured, but also because my experiences for the last year and a half have opened my eyes to a lot of things I didn't think about before. It was always just girlfriends and drugs and practicing. The problem was that I was never into the music part enough to save me from my current state of disrepair. I could blame my teachers and parents for my lack of self-consideration and self-awareness but it doesn't really matter I suppose how it happened. I thought too much and felt too little and it's probably just the way I'm wired. The feeling will never come easily; perhaps it's my biggest challenge. My life and body have now forced it into my conscious brain where still it is often ignored or forgotten. Perhaps I stuck with music because I instinctively knew that it would always present the biggest challenges for me. However, it seems that not until now has there been enough musical context, variety, and stimulation nor months on end in which I wasn't practicing for me to begin to "get it." And by that I mean connecting with all the music I was doing in a deep and personal way. This connection and consolidation combined with my physical situation have allowed me to have this evening a painful and troubling yet glorious experience. The Muti/CSO concert tonight was probably one of the best concerts I've ever been to and I was continually in awe of Muti's conducting and his rapport with the orchestra. In being so moved I was ever more pointedly aware of my current inability to be an active member in any respectable part of our society's musical culture. I feel I could contribute so much, and yet I contribute so little. Is my lack of confidence about my abilities really enough to keep me from pursuing recovery enough so that it is no longer an excuse for my lack of accomplishment? Is convalescence truly escaping me despite my best efforts? I don't know if music can answer these questions. What does seem clear is that the refusal of my tendinitis to go away somehow seems to bring me closer to music every day. It does so by forcing me to feel and thus giving me a totally new and personal way to connect with music. Since in this case the feeling is one of tragedy, this is now the emotional lens with which I hear music. Does that mean pain is now my salvation? I hope that's not messed up.