Lilacs

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the October 1980 Conference. 

There's a piano piece by Rachmaninoff called "Lilacs" that I've been trying to learn for probably fifteen years now. Admittedly, I don't practice much. And I have learned and performed other things in that time. But something about "Lilacs" seems to have defeated me. I can't ever really perfect it because I can't figure out how to memorize it. And I can't memorize it because I don't know quite how to practice it. And I can't practice it because I can't understand it! It has just been a baffling effort for me, all around.

But I LOVE the piece, so I can't quite bring myself to give up on it! I keep trying, off and on. I asked my cousin, who taught me piano at BYU, and he said, "Memorize each hand separately." I tried that. But even then something seemed to stop me from mastering the piece. I knew the notes. I could play through the piece reasonably well. I practiced slowly, I practiced each hand alone, I practiced in sections, I practiced with the metronome. But I just didn't GET it!

Ever since we got our new grand piano, I've been trying to do more practicing again, and I got out "Lilacs" for the millionth time. One evening as I was bashing my way through it yet again, I suddenly had the thought that I ought to pray for help learning the music. "Okay," I thought, "I can pray for that in my prayers tonight"— though I also felt hesitant, like it would be a weird thing to pray for, since I'm only learning "Lilacs" for fun and not because I NEED to for any reason. (Certainly, I have often prayed fervently over performances or accompaniments, and I've prayed general "help me get better at playing the piano" prayers—but I'm not in the habit of praying over each practice session!) And furthermore, I wasn't sure it was even a prayer that could be answered, because obviously what I needed on the piece was just MORE work! I already know how to practice the piano! I've been doing it for my whole life! When the music doesn't sound good yet, it just means you need to practice harder. Heavenly Father isn't going to just suddenly make me able to play a piece if I haven't done the required work! …These are the thoughts that were going through my head.

As I thought these dismissive and doubtful thoughts, again the feeling came: "Pray for help NOW." Surprised, I took my hands off the keyboard, closed my eyes, and said a quick and apologetic prayer for help. Then I started practicing again. And I don't know if I can describe exactly what happened next, but I'll try.

Almost immediately, I noticed similarities between two sections of the piece I'd never noticed before. One was a slightly-modified "echo" of the other. Seeing that connection made me look at the organization of the piece in a new way: the form was not quite as I had always thought it. I saw that I could break the music down differently into sections, and that the sections related to each other more deeply than I'd realized. I saw what had always seemed to be disparate elements suddenly coalesce into supporting and interdependent parts of a larger structure.

All that probably sounds abstract, but it was most undeniably specific in its effect. I felt like this piece, which had remained opaque to me for so long, was suddenly clear in my vision. I could see how it was put together, and simultaneously how I could dismantle it into its component parts and then reassemble those parts through my practice. Thirty minutes after my prayer, I felt I had made more progress toward learning the music than I'd made in the past fifteen years. It was amazing! I kept saying, "Oh! So that's it!" as I played and looked at this music that almost seemed made up of notes I'd never seen before—or maybe more accurately, of notes I was recognizing for the first time. I could not deny the dramatic, instantaneous effect of my prayer for help.

Pondering it afterwards and wondering what on earth had happened, I had so many questions! Why did the sudden understanding come NOW? Why that clear prompting to pray for help with something I didn't ever think of asking for help with before? If I'd asked ten years ago, would I have learned the piece faster, or was I not even ready to receive the help until I'd put in some preliminary amount of work on my own? And maybe the biggest question of all—why did Heavenly Father even CARE if I learned "Lilacs" or not? "Developing my talents" in a general way so I can play the organ for church, I can understand. But learning a specific piece that was not for a funeral or a primary program or a sacrament meeting or a concert? Why would it matter? To teach me that God knows EVERYTHING better than I do? Even how to practice the piano?

I still have those questions. And I'm still not proficient at "Lilacs." (It's improving, though! In ways I never thought it would!) But I thought of this experience when I read Elder Ronald E. Poelman's talk quoting Brigham Young on the Spirit of the Lord:

In the words of Brigham Young: “If a man is called … to manufacture the clothing that is necessary for the Saints, and he goes at that business with his eye single to the building up of the kingdom of God on the earth he is entitled to the Spirit of the Holy Gospel, and he will receive and enjoy it just as much as if he were preaching the Gospel. … [He will have] the spirit to know how to raise sheep, to procure the wool, to put machinery in operation to make the clothing for the advancement, benefit and building up of the people of God on the earth. And the Spirit of the Lord is here in these labors—farming, merchandizing and in all mechanical business just as much as it is in preaching the Gospel, if men will live for it” (in Journal of Discourses, 11:293–94).

I'm not sure if my experience is an example or a parable, but either way I can testify that the Spirit can, indeed, teach us anything. I've been asking myself how much other amazing help I've been missing out on by not asking for it more specifically. I said half-jokingly to Sam, "What else should I be praying for help with? How to make the bed? What ingredients to add to a recipe?—but I really do wonder. If God can show me a transformative view of a difficult piano piece, what other parts of my temporal, practical, everyday routine—or the things I usually think of as merely temporal—can He transform?

At the same time, I've been thinking about President Young's promise that if we "go at our business" with the "building up of the kingdom of God" in mind, we will have the Spirit guiding every aspect of our lives. It makes me want to find more creative ways to deliberately MAKE my "temporal labors" into spiritual ones. Is there some way my learning "Lilacs" COULD become important, and bless other people? Is there some way I could more specifically devote or dedicate my everyday labors to God? And if I did, would I receive even more help from the Spirit of God?

I don't know if there's someone out there who literally needs to hear my "Lilacs" or if that was a blessing just for me. But I now know better than ever that God can teach us anything—anything!—we need to know. How much more will He teach us if we ask for help in carrying out His work?

Other posts in this series:

• More than Soup and Muffins by Nathaniel Givens
• Self-reliance is Spiritual by G
• Take Care of Their Wants First by Jan Tolman