The worst-case scenario of anxiety for me is when it is anxiety about my playing. Especially if it means disappointing my teacher. Such was the case yesterday, as I dreaded every passing moment leading up to my lesson. And worst of all, an entire day tightly scheduled allowed no time for practice, which only contributed to this pressing anxiety.

So I prepared myself for the worst. It seemed unlikely that Beethoven would come through for me; after all, I didn't spend enough time learning his stupid sonata, plus, he never really liked me to begin with. As if the notes on the page would suddenly become alive, as if my hands would magically know where to go. I could just see my teacher sitting next to me, taking deep breaths in silence to calm herself, while my shaky hands bastardized the Opus 90.

But alas. If I couldn't sight-read before, you better believe that I can sight-read now. (They say that fear is the ultimate human motivation). The inhibitions that previously weighed on me now became delightfully light. My hands somehow instinctively knew where to place themselves, and this natural musical understanding graced my mind. What enlightenment. What a lovely sonata.

Beethoven came through!