Things I will never know

While I am an expert in my field, there are some things I might never know:

I heard of a counterpart elsewhere, who was reported to have ‘blown the search committee away’ at his interview. I will never know what that’s like.

I will probably never know what it’s like to raise enough money to rebuild an organ that is in increasing need of rebuilding. Along those lines, I may never know what my lasting legacy looks like.

I will probably never know what it’s like to be invited to play in the you-have-arrived venues.

I will never know what it’s like to be invited onto a management roster. And I will probably never know why I wasn’t. And I will probably never have the nerve to ask.

Other than my dissertation research and what I have observed from others, I will probably never know what it’s like to study in Europe.

I will probably never know what it’s like to win a teaching award.

I will never know what it’s like to be a distinguished professor with an endowed salary.

While I have seen it happen to others, I will never know what it’s like to be directly recruited for a position.

I do know, gratefully, what it’s like to perform for a national convention. But apparently I will never know what it’s like to perform for a regional.

I do know what it’s like to win a piano playing competition, for I won every one of those I ever entered. But I will never know what it’s like to win an organ playing competition, for I have placed second in every one of those I ever entered, that is, if I made it past the application stage at all. But the audience prize I did win once, plus the teaching position I ‘won’ in 2005 have been plenty to celebrate, and I am grateful.

I will probably never know what it’s like to perform an organ concerto with orchestra.

Thank goodness I will never know what it’s like to get to the greener-looking grass on the other side of the fence and discover that it’s fake. My teacher Clyde Holloway always believed that we are always where we belong, and I am grateful that I have never landed where I didn’t belong. I chose wisely for college and graduate school. I have taught in a functional institution all this time, one devoid of backstabbing. I have had supportive deans. I have seen mutual support flourish among students and faculty. Our students have come first in all ways. My salary was not affected by the downturn of 2008 nor by Covid. I am in excellent health and have a loving wife. When I gather with counterparts, I hear horror stories of institutional or interpersonal dysfunction, stories that make my disappearing hair stand up, and I realize afresh just how good I have had it all this time.

And so, while I might wax nostalgic for what never was, there is no complaining about what currently is. I know that much.