Back in the saddle

I went, I played. It was a good session - around a dozen folk, nice mix of instruments, good tunes: all very Irish, all very fast. I didn't belong. I started with Galloway, fluffed so badly l laughed it off with a "actually, let's not play that tune" and went into Flett. It was OK, I think. I think, because I don't remember, because the stage fright kicked in, hands trembling, so I can't get right thumb or left pinkie properly placed, my hands are tense, all I can hear is my heart pounding fit to bust. I feel as though I must look as though I am on the point of collapse, but the fan says I just look as though I am concentrating hard. I am concentrating on getting through.

The next time I tried the set we'd worked on. Scrambled through Farewell, but I think I only managed twice through the jig before giving up. I held it together, but with much fudging. I know these tunes so well, and yet... The bellows didn't help. I panic that I will run out of air and I pump and pump. I also (and this maybe related to the previous remark) get hotter and hotter.

Final tune was the King during which I flipped my chanter out. Entirely my own fault: I was hanging on to it for grim death. There was a pause. "Carry on!" I commanded of the fiddler, and he did, and somehow I managed to step back into the circle and play on. More fudging, but I got through to the end.

But still, I am back in the saddle. I need to control the stage fright. I need to control my nerves, my hands. I need to be in control, back in the saddle with my hands on the reins.