Last weekend, I played at Glastonbury on the Pyramid Stage with a brilliant band. I had a blast, and by some miracle, I didn’t have to drink.
When I was on stage, looking out at the thousands of people with the flags, singing and dancing, albeit in cagoules and thigh deep in mud, I had a lovely, glowy moment. “Well!” I thought. “This is a turn up for the books, for the girl who couldn’t get out of bed without having a drink and was never going to play the cello again for as long she lived.” Coming from where my alcoholism eventually took me, to being paid to play the cello at ANY level, is miraculous. I feel the same gratitude when I play in a background string quartet for a stranger’s wedding. In the old days, I’d have been drunk at the back of the church, a bottle of “water’ (vodka) at my feet or I simply wouldn’t have made it there and caused a lot of stress for whoever hired me.