Quote of the day:
"Sometimes good things fall apart, so better ones can come together"
-Marilyn Monroe
From the small, backstage window, I could see the sky getting darker, telling me to get ready for the show to begin. My heart started to race. I imagined myself playing my almost brand-new violin in front if the crowd. I played the notes in my head over and over again -- C-C- C- D- E - E- E, C-C -C-D- E-E-- My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the music teacher. He was announcing for me to come on stage.
"Sometimes good things fall apart, so better ones can come together"
-Marilyn Monroe
This I Believe: A New Instrument
I pulled out my violin, still trying to play the notes in my head, but then, I looked at the crowd. They were all staring at me, waiting for me to make a move, which, in their heads, would define me as a musician.
My bow hit the violin shakingly, and I started to play -- C - C -E -D -- Dang it! Wrong note -- C - C -E -E -- Oh no! My mind was completely blank. I couldn't remember anything. By the end of the 3 minute “recital”, the music piece that I had practiced for months sounded like like a disaster. I might as well had gotten a three year old to dress up as me, and play random notes while listenin to Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star. It probably would have sounded better.
I felt so ashamed that I never went to any violin lessons ever again. Anytime I played the violin, it simply felt foreign. The fact that I had failed and embarrassed myself in public didn't bother me. What hurt me the most was that even before that, no matter how much I practiced, or how many times I read a music sheet, something didn't feel right. I never truly felt confident in my violin skills. I didn't know what to do; I felt lost and untalented.
Sometime later, while at a friends house, I saw her brother playing the piano and it truly amazed me. He was playing so many different keys, and there seemed to be so many possible combinations, from the highest octave C, to the lowest pitched, intimidaring E. This was the day that I first fell in love with the piano.
I would go to my friend's house nearly every week and try to learn as much piano as I could. This was until one day for Christmas, I got my own professional keyboard. Things finally started to make sense. All of the music skills I had learned from the violin helped me teach myself how to play piano. Now, every time I play a song, I feel like I belong there, with the beautiful, black and white keys. They combine in endless patterns to c share an emotion, in the form of a song like no other.
This, I believe. I believe that sometimes doors don't close because we do a poor job at keeping them open. Doors close so that we can look for new ones that lead us to a place where we truly belong. We should learn from these closing doors, as they remind us that nothing is permanent. There will always be a new instrument to try, or a new key to play.
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Very nice. Great narrative! Even better lesson.
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