Afraid... of music? But I'm a musician!

[disclaimer: I wrote this post at 10pm last night and haven't re-read it... ]

My latest epiphany: 

I think I am actually afraid of music.

But I’m a musician.  Why in the world would I be afraid of music?

Let me qualify: by “music” here, I mean the musical world as a phenomenon, including all published music ever written, in all the eras of world history.  I don’t mean the making of live music (I’m never afraid of that - it thrills me), or the making of my own music (I’m slightly intimidated to try, and always feel slightly unoriginal, but not afraid).

What makes me afraid?  Tonight, I finally put my finger on it: 

it’s my perfectionism, 

my need for control, 

and my all-or-nothing-ness.  

Here are the facts:

• It kills me that it’s impossible for me to listen to every single song ever written before coming to my conclusions about what I prefer (lack of thoroughness).
• It’s pretty hard for anyone to simply decision-make logically about music, that it’s by nature a gut-level like or dislike thing that I can’t control (lack of control).
• I make logistical excuses for why we don’t listen to music around the house (we don’t have a home sound system; my iPod is too small to load everything on at the same time, which requires an extra step of changing out my music every so often, which I rarely get around to), when the reality is I don’t really know exactly what I feel like listening to at any given moment because I’m not versed in what’s “out there” and I’m not even tuned in to my own musical preferences.  I always feel the stuff I have is boring and old and worn out, but I don’t know how to refresh because there’s so much new to pick from.  I hardly know what I prefer because I don’t even know what all my options are, and because I can’t see all my options I find it hard to make a decision?  
• I’m constantly feeling guilty for being a once-upon-a-time classical musician yet not owning more classical music, listening to more classical music, not exposing my kids to a broader range of music… but when I go to remedy any of those, the range of choices is so incredibly overwhelming I don’t know where to start.

I feel so weird!  Who relates to music like this?  Who lets music be a source of guilt?  Good grief!  

{Not my sister.  Definitely.}

Here’s an odd observation: To tell me what I should listen to next, I rely almost solely on music people give me.  Isn’t that weird?  Like, what - God’s supposed to drop my next listening assignment out of the sky, because there’s just so much to listen to I can’t handle it and feel overwhelmed, so I throw up my hands and give up and don’t listen to anything until it bonks me on the head?  Good grief, again!

Really.  Seriously.  This feels like a problem.  Is it a problem?  Was I always like this?  Just “take it as it comes”, never “go get it myself”?  Always being told what to like, listening to things just because everybody else around me was listening to them?  True, I have always enjoyed riding in other people’s cars and I do just drink in gratefully whatever they happen to turn on (although the limited taxi-menu of either Russian rap or Central Asian crooning is a bit hard to swallow).  But why, in the world?  I’m music-starved in my own home?  There must be something wrong with me.

Why can’t I just pan the smorgasbord, pick at random, and enjoy it?  Are my music tastes so narrow and “old-fogey-ish” that if I pick at random I’m sure not to enjoy it?  Is it because buying music is expensive, even as mp3s, and I’m enough of a prude to still feel generous twinges of conscience about ripping or stealing or “borrowing” from someone else?

Yes, I feel overwhelmed by the smorgasbord.  For every new cool band I learn the name of, 10 or 20 more will pop up next week, so what’s the use? 

And yes, I’m so grateful (though feeling slightly guilty) when someone whose musical tastes I trust hands me a memory stick of eclectic “new” music, because I finally feel the gates creak open and my musical self expand, which is what I’m always longing for, secretly and shyly.  

I just don’t know why I’m so hung up about it all.

My dad would probably say it’s because I’m an “uptight chicky-babe.”  

He’s probably right.  

Thoughts?