My evolution as a violinist has included many thrilling performances, and I still love what I do, but there are times when even I get burned out. When this happens, I go back to that moment ten years ago. I picture myself on the stage with my bow in the air. I feel my heart racing, I see the faces in the audience smiling, and I remember the moment I thought, I have to make this my life.
So I was overseas, with limited access to internet and…whoops, I read through all the books that I had on my kindle. So…what was I to do, but re-read something I’d already read?
Well, what book to read then? I’d just finished a load of sci-fi with the latest installment of Craig Alanson’s The Expeditionary Force (aka THE ADVENTURES OF SKIPPY haha), fantasy with Brandon Sanderson’s Oathbringer, and well…I was trying to read to relax instead of stress out with righteous indignation, so politics was obviously out of the question (thanks Trump lol).
I looked through my library and…voila! The Only Pirate at the Party, from my first favorite violinist, Lindsey Stirling! I didn’t remember a ton about it, since I’d last read it 2 years ago, but I remembered it being mostly positive and uplifting?
It hit the spot, helping me turn around a vacation that honestly had not gone that well up to that point, and helping me cool off some of my anti-Trump rage. So kudos to you, Lindsey. 🙂
That’s the best part about being a kid. Nothing seems impossible until someone bigger and older tells you it is. I grew up in a lovely little world where nothing was too far out of reach if I wanted to work for it. I think I still live in that world.
Standing out on purpose is one thing, but doing so by default takes a lot of energy and confidence. I’m proud of the things that set me apart, and I know why they are good; but that doesn’t mean it isn’t difficult.
Lindsey had a lot of great and relatable messages to her readers in this book. The above two are my favorites.
I’m often told that I have a lot of (too much?) energy, especially for my age, and I know for a fact that I stand out. I’m confident now, but I wasn’t always. Stick me in a completely unfamiliar place, and you’ll see me struggle sometimes if I can’t turn “it” on.
Based on her stories, Lindsey seems the same way. She grew up a certain way, found it didn’t *quite* conform, but rolled with her personality and upbringing anyway. It’s nice to see and read affirming messages, and I hope she reached some of her younger fans with them.
Living in the Moment
Once upon a time, I thought I blew the greatest moment of my life. I no longer believe that is possible. Life is kind and full of great moments, but I think the greatest moment of my life is always ahead of me. When I reach it, there will be another, greater moment to come.
I want to spend more time balancing in the present. It’s the only thing that truly exists. If I’m too busy ruminating over the past or pining for the future, some of those great moments will pass by before I get the chance to live in them.
As I mentioned at the beginning of this review, I had been pretty stressed out, both personally and at global affairs for several months leading up to re-reading this book. I’d spend hours ruminating on what-could-have-been if only I’d made a different decision at a certain point in time in December, or stressing out about the LATEST idiotic thing that Donald Trump did, or stressing about learning that someone *else* I knew and looked up to had voted for and continues to support Trump through it all. Oi.
But Lindsey’s message of staying in the moment, of not dwelling on the past or waiting for the future was a kind reminder to pay attention to the present, was a good reminder to enjoy the here and now. It helped that I was in New Zealand, of course, but yeah – I should enjoy this vacation, weather and bad luck be damned.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” What genius came up with that one? A robot? What a load. Let me set the record straight. Throwing stick sand stones is mean (and archaic), but you really want to hurt me, use words. They are much more effective.
Lindsey went into detail about how pretending to not care about how others feel about you may work for some people, but not for her. I think that’s a really good lesson for any of her readers that have or have had self esteem issues.
It’s not weak that you care about what other people think of you. You can try to minimize it, but it’s okay to still care.
“Not long after, I came across some positive comments on the internet, and I was reminded why I do what I do: to bring people joy. Am I the best violinist in teh world? No. Do I need to be the best to bring people joy? No.”
What’s important is how you deal with it. Lindsey’s solution was to care more about what she thought of herself, and to think about why she performed. And bravo to her for that.
“Maybe my best isn’t as good as someone else’s, but for a lot of people, my best is enough. Most important, for me, it’s enough.”
And of course, her real overarching idea in that chapter was acceptance. It’s okay if you’re not the best, as long as you’re accomplishing what you set out to do. For her, it was helping others have fun via entertaining them.
For me, it’s okay if I didn’t make the perfect trade – sure, I maybe could have retired if I had, but I still came out well ahead of most of the decisions I could have made, so I should be happy with what I’ve done, and look to the next trade, instead of beating myself up for not timing the top and making the perfect one.
Selfishly selfless: Selfless behavior resulting in positive recognition for good deeds, warming the heart and causing feelings of being noble and heroic.
Selflessly selfless: Selfless behavior resulting in negative recognition, or no recognition at all.
I’ll let you in on a little secret: being selflessly selfless was really hard for me.
Her chapters about her Mormon missionary work were very interesting. She went into depth about how hard it was, and about her mindset going into it: that she’d go and save souls and be super recognized for it, and oh how fun that’d be!
If you’ve seen The Book of Mormon, the main character has similar aspirations for credit, and falls on his face, similar to what Lindsey experienced initially as well.
Her main point with her mission stories is that if you go into the mindset that helping you will help you feel better via praise from others, it’ll sometimes be really hard to enjoy being selfless. Which is…an interesting concept.
I’ll admit that part of the reason why I help people when I can is exactly that. I want to be recognized for helping others so that way I feel better about myself. Selfishly, I also think that doing so will end up coming around karmically to help me out if I’m even in a bind, which is…if you think about it, kind of a selfish reason to be selfless.
“Whenever anyone asks him how he found the church, Mike talks about you. Says he met a little short haired angel on the subway.”
Her major success story in her missionary work brought a smile to my face, and is clearly an important moment in her life. I’m glad she shared it.
Reading about Lindsey’s struggles, both professionally and personally, was a lot more than I honestly expected. I had expected more of “Well, things were hard at first, but then I kept working and things kept getting better and then yay!”
When the lights faded, I held it together until I reached the bathroom, where I locked the door, sank to the floor, and sobbed. I was humiliated, but more than anything, I felt utterly betrayed by God. Leading up to my performance, I was confident it was nothing short of divine intervention that had led me there – that God wanted me to do well. Instead of rising to the top as I had prayed for, I took a nosedive, and I couldn’t understand why.
Reading about how she locked herself in a bathroom and cried after what happened to her on America’s Got Talent was heartbreaking. I’ve been there where you think “welp, guess it was fun having hopes and dreams. That’s over. What are my consolation prizes / where do I go from here?”, and it is a *dark* place.
At first, I felt like I had a split personality. Every time I ate something out of my comfort zone, the internal battle would begin in my head. Automatically, the eating disorder side of my brain would say, You can’t even say “no” to a small bowl of ice cream? You are pathetic and weak.
Furthermore, reading about Lindsey’s struggles with anorexia were both frightening and eye opening. If I ever have a daughter (or son) going through something similar, I hope I’ll be able to help them, first with getting them to read her anorexia chapters in this book, and then starting on a support structure from there.
Hopefully the chapters here would help her (or him) to see that she (or he) is not alone, that others have gone through it, and that they have triumphed, Lindsey being one of them.
I’m fortunate enough to not have gone through something like that, but damn, the way she described anorexia was psychologically pretty frightening – the way her relationships with her friends changed, the way her relationship with her family and her mother changed. That’s scary.
I can only hope I never have to find another keyboard-playing best friend. Those are some big shoes to fill. I would know, since I once tried to wear Gavi’s shoes into a venue. It was snowing, and I couldn’t find my own. I ended up using one as a toboggan instead.
And Last but not least, I heard it from someone somewhere that Gavi thinks I’m hott. Don’t make me say it again, I’m blushing so hard right now.
I’ll close this review the same way that Lindsey closed her book, with Gavi.
I had heard whispers that Gavi and Lindsey were almost a couple, but never quite. Lindsey wrote this book while he was still sick, but everyone thought he’d recover. He was a healthy guy in his late 20s, early 30s before he got sick – surely nothing to worry about?
Gavi passed away after the completion of this book, but before it was published. Losing him was the darkest period of my life, but he will always be a light in my memory.
When I think of him, I will always imagine him laughing, because that’s what Gavi was best at – making people laugh and spreading joy.
I love you, Gavi. I love you more than you will ever know.
That’s just…so sad. 😦
Reading this book gave us all insight into Lindsey’s past life via her stories and musings, but it also gave us a window into her life at the time of her writing this book. I’m sorry you and Gavi didn’t get your storybook ending, Lindsey.
Seems like you two truly did have something special, especially after hearing Gavi’s Song, from your Brave Enough album. Gosh, I even believe the online speculation that you named your album Brave Enough because you wished you had been “brave enough” to tell him your feelings. 😥