When live shows returned, I thought I was ready to rock those stages again. Despite my eagerness to get back out there, it was met with a harsh reality that slapped me square in the face: “Percy, you are out of shape.”
Before I elaborate, there is something you first need to understand. I am NOT fully conscious when I'm on stage. When the lights come on, and the music fires up making the crowds roar in excitement, it makes me forget that I even exist. I tend to play with my eyes closed and get lost in moments throughout the night; only to feel pure elation upon opening them to view a sea of smiling faces. It's like when I'm driving to a destination only to snap out of a trance mid-trip and realize I'm behind the wheel. I'm unable to absorb all that is happening. I'm running on pure instinct. When the show is over, I'm aware of what occurred, but I don't feel like it was me...not entirely.
I remember Beyoncé talking about her stage persona who she dubbed: Sasha Fierce. She claimed that Sasha is the diva on stage, but off it, she's back to her more innocent self. Initially, I thought it was a slight fabrication in order to sell her album of the same name. Now I see where she's coming from. However, I am certainly myself on stage. The dancing and moving while I play, that's me. The smiling and pointing to others I see having a great time, also me. The outbursts of excitable screams when I'm really feeling it...Yup! You guessed it. So if I'm myself on stage, I wonder where my autonomous perception comes from.
It must be unimaginable for people to learn that I was a painfully shy kid. My first time on stage was absolutely nerve-wracking. I kept my eyes on my instrument and never dared to make eye contact with anyone. "Don't mess up. Don't mess up", is all I thought about in order to get through the performance. There's a big difference between that kid and myself today. Yet, for the life of me, I can NOT remember how I overcame the bashful tendencies. I didn't consciously work on it, or even address it. I was timid, and then I wasn't. It was like someone flicked a switch. Being entertaining was all that mattered, and confidence was necessary to fulfill that duty. It was as simple as that. From then on, I didn't mind the dreamlike state I fell into upon performing. The higher the stakes, the less lucid I became. In the end, people were enjoying my contributions to the shows. Mission accomplished!
After a year of lockdown, I was finally on the road again. The lights, music, and crowds were back and all was right with the world once more. I succumbed to the familiar euphoria of yesteryear. Then, about 3 or 4 songs in, I unceremoniously snapped into full consciousness to discover my heart felt like it was going to beat through my ribcage. "Oh my God! I'm going to die! I'm going to die!!!" Apparently, it was the constant touring that kept my conditioning at a high level. I chugged my water and took deep breaths. I decided to take it easy for the rest of the set. "No more dancing or other unnecessary movements", I think to myself. "I just need to get through the show". A few songs later, I find myself coming to again and sucking wind. It's at this time when I realize my dancing is involuntary and that I'm in for a long night.
I've since played a number of shows and am back to form. It's a good thing too as The Mavericks have hired my services for the En Español tour. I was worried they'd frown upon my happy feet, but they've welcomed it as much as their fans have. I guess the moral of this story is that I need to buy a treadmill if we go on another lockdown.