Sigma Alpha Iota

sai-national.org • FALL 2017 • PAN PIPES 17 2016. I learned very quickly how much and where my mouth had hit the steering wheel. e corners of my mouth were incredibly pinched because the muscles connected couldn't relax because of the accident. I also could barely breathe enough to play even two notes before having to take yet another breath. My right lung had collapsed in the accident and it was still recuperating. is was incredibly uncomfortable to deal with because I played with pinched corners until my undergraduate professor taught me how to have a relaxed embouchure. I had worked so hard for many years to allow my lungs to fill up with as much air so I could phrase comfortably and it felt like I had gone back in time. I had no interest in being back there. My stubbornness started to work for me, though. Very slowly, my mouth began to relax enough so my embouchure could let go, and my lungs, just as slowly as my mouth, began to expand more so breathing became less of a struggle. e first time I was able to get through a four bar phrase with a quarter note beating at 100 without having to breathe was incredible. Looking back at these moments, it is remarkable how much they impacted me. It felt as if I was finally becoming me again; my physical recovery was truly happening. e most prominent thought I had during these moments of improvement is that this will make me a better professor. I would never want anyone to deal with this. However, these are the moments that define someone, and it is always better to take the positive route. My first live performance aer the accident was during Christmas with my mother-in-law, who is a church organist. e day my husband and I arrived at their house, she handed me music and asked if we could play something together. Sight-reading had been incredibly difficult for me at this point so when I could, I went away from family and practiced. I was actually surprised at how much I could handle on the first reading, but noticed that there were still very small things that would trip me up. It became very clear to me that my brain had difficulty processing something new and I had to relearn how to learn. I had to play phrases over more so than I've ever needed to before just to get them to stick in my head. I also noticed that the feeling in my right third finger and pinky were almost nonexistent so I had to play with plugs in. It made me feel incredibly frustrated to go backwards in time to when I was just learning to play with an open-holed flute. Once again, I had to take the positive route for my own sanity and tried to focus on learning the music. When I felt comfortable enough, I stopped. We le that night for Christmas Eve services and I performed the small piece. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't my best playing, but that was a huge step from getting home from the rehabilitation hospital three months previously. My husband made a recording of it and posted it online. e amount of praise and outpour from our friends and family was astounding. e incredibly positive responses that came out of this pushed me even more to continue rebooting my lungs, force my fingers to feel more, and keep improving. When we came home aer Christmas, I was reinvigorated to continue practicing. I felt like I had a musical purpose again and I wanted to push myself as much as I could. Some days I would improve throughout the practice session; some days I felt I was moving backwards. Oen I had to look day by day to see improvements, and sometimes it would be week by week. It was incredible how much this made me feel like me again. Music had been in my life for as long as I can remember and knowing that it was pushing me this much to recovery made me want to pursue it even more. It was a constant reminder that I am who I am because of music, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Probably the biggest impact the Christmas performance did for me was that I was finally willing to pull the piccolo out of my flute bag. Most flutists that I know are not the biggest fans of the instrument, but to me, it's simply misunderstood and truly gorgeous. I began piccolo in middle school and the first time I played it, I fell in love. Now, earplugs did become my best friend very early on, but I have always thought that I should have a degree in piccolo performance in addition to the two I have in flute performance. I started with simple things like very simple orchestral excerpts, which were played under tempo, and the second movement of the Liebermann Piccolo Concerto, which is arguably my favorite movement of my favorite piccolo piece. One of the big appeals of piccolo is that I have always been able to play longer without a breath than I have been able to with flute, and this was still the case. With the help and patience of Alice Dade, the flute professor at the University of Missouri, and Jill Heyboer, the flute professor at Missouri State University, I began to grow both in my playing and my teaching. is came from comments that they would say on my own playing as well as comments that would say to their students while I was observing. Every time they would say something that they wanted improved about a student's playing, I had the same thought process. What I realized was that my love of teaching and inspiring students was still a possibility. In fact, my thoughts were iterated in these sessions and it made me feel as if I was picking up on what needed to be improved upon. It was incredibly rewarding for me. In the summer of 2017, I finally had good news due to a follow-up appointment with my neurologist. My doctor fully supported and believed that me pursuing a doctorate degree would be possible in a few years. e amount of happiness that came over me was entirely overwhelming but I didn't care. My dream to be a professor was still possible! To make me think even more positively, I finally had a dissertation topic. True, the accident had grossly impacted my life and my husband's life. I, however, could make a positive spin on the most difficult time of my life. I will gladly take that approach instead of focusing on what still isn't right. It's incredible how one day can shape your life. ere will always be good and bad days, but I know that my love of music will impact the good days so much more and make the bad days a little less troublesome. I couldn't be happier with the amount of improvement thus far though I am still a little anxious. I am sure that this accident will impact the rest of my life but I am hopeful that it will be just a minor impact. e fact that I can focus on "I wonder what will happen today" as opposed to "I wonder what doom I'll have to fight through today" is the best way I can analyze and focus my thoughts and plans for the day. Mira Spenner lives in Waynesville, Missouri with her husband, where he is stationed at Ft. Leonard Wood with the United States Army Band. She was initiated into the Beta Eta chapter at Western Michigan University in 2006 and acted as the Vice President of Ritual and Fraternity Education during her senior year. RECOVERY 'Music had been in my life for as long as I can remember and knowing that it was pushing me this much to recovery made me want to pursue it even more.'

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