I wonder if playing an instrument is akin to growing out your hair– there’s only so long you can grow it before it breaks off. I’m hoping that my creativity isn’t like my thin, dry hair; my violin playing is at a plateau in the band I play. Maybe this is because my violin concentration now is to facilitate movement of clients I have, or to distract my patients from pain; I don’t play to perform or express myself. I never have, really. I sing for that reason, but I have never gone to my violin for any reason other than A) I have to, so that I don’t entirely embarrass my mother at my next lesson, or B) to assist someone else in some way. Certainly I think of my violin as a family member, one who has grown up with me and has sat idly by when I neglected it for years. I don’t think of it as a source of expression. I think of it as a dependable friend, or a horse that’s out to pasture– I can go get it when I want it, but mostly it’s just stagnant and bored with me. There is so much more within my violin, and I feel badly for not drawing more from it. I feel that only a small percentage of its potential has been realized, and that I am disappointing it with my plateau.