For a summer, I was a piano teacher. Mind you, I don't announce this as a declaration of my abilities to play the piano, but I can at least say that I've played for a long time in my life and I at least knew enough to teach. I was hired unexpectedly at a music store as an unsuspecting customer perusing the sheet music aisle. I was a substitute first, but quickly after, I was assigned my own students in my own dedicated studio room. It was a tiny room, with just a piano and a chair for me to sit on, but it was perfect. By the fall, I transferred universities and decided the commute was too far for a casual part-time job. Looking back on these times, I realize I took these things for granted. Now, I can't help but see exactly how much I miss playing the piano. It was a part of me, and as much as I was too stubborn to admit it when I was younger, my parents were right. Music has been a big part of my life.
I stumbled upon Erik Satie on YouTube earlier this morning, and immediately felt a bittersweet tinge of happy sadness, like the feeling you get when reuniting with an old friend. It has actually been years since I last played the piano, even though I have that electric keyboard hiding under a dust cover in my apartment. Since we needed to put my baby grand in storage for space, my father tried to encourage me to continue playing on the electric keys. I have been stubborn, claiming I didn't have the time, and that I had school and work and anyway I was stressed out enough as it is, let alone have any time to stress myself further trying to practice the piano. My father would just tell me, one day the piano will come back to you, and you'll understand how much it will mean to you, how music can be like medicine to whatever ails you. He didn't say much else, he would just leave it at that, like it was just the simple truth, waiting patiently for me to discover it.
I am guilty of taking many things for granted, not just the piano. I've always had the trouble of being a Jack of All Trades, never being able to decide on which I had the passion for to truly love and master. I had the extreme fortune of having supportive parents who lent me their patience as I tried gymnastics, tae kwon do, ice skating, ballet, jazz, tap, skiing, swimming, on top of different instruments including flute, cello, viola, drums, guitar, bass, ...you name it. My fickle love carried on to short-term relationships with pets as well: fish, frogs, lizards, hamsters, cats and dogs. Let's not even forget my career choices, which lead me to art school, biology, English, and from pre-med to engineering. I know we're all allowed the leeway to discover ourselves, but sometimes I wonder if I just nearly over did it. I mean, really, how long does it need to take for you to realize you like something?
I can say with confidence, I've definitely calmed down. I don't know how accurate it is, to say this, but I have always attributed a lot of self-discovery to my move to California. It is a nice thing to move to another state at the age of 21. You've got a couple of years under your belt, and you're old enough to legitimately try things under your own accord and with full responsibility. By the time I moved here, I knew what things I tried I didn't like, and even though I was still finding exactly what it was I did like, I had a better guess at what it would be. After being here for some time, I had started to narrow down my interests to surfing, hiking, snowboarding, swing dancing and climbing. Because these weren't things I fully dedicated myself to back home, my boyfriend at the time perhaps felt it was another phase, powered by the energy of thrill-seeking for something new. And considering my track record, I'm sure many people felt the same way. But something was different. I didn't really need to defend myself, I just laughed it off and continued doing what it was I liked to do. And you know what? I'm still doing it.
So the problem is, and always seems to be, finding the time to do all these things. The nice thing about my self-discovery was that I found what it was I liked. Great. But then a new problem arose. I'm not a rambunctious little kid with parents who'd just drive me around and support me anymore. I mean, my parents are still supportive, but now I'm my own adult, going to lectures, work, and oh yeah, I'm a lady. I date. So then there's another person, potentially in my life too. Now how was this going to work out?
I was just as fickle in my single years as you'd imagine I would be. Aside from my past long term, the infatuations and short-term relationships I encountered were all exciting, but quick and short lived. And they were always at an extreme. I dated a dancer, I loved dancing and I went all the time. I dated an athletic nut, I would always be out doing that too. All these things were part of me, but they were not all of me, and eventually the initial sparks would die out, leaving only the ugly truth that we just weren't right together. This wasn't me.
I remember sitting with my cousin at a bar during the last tumultuous not-really-relationship I was dealing with. I needed her there with me, because I just knew something wasn't right. This not-really-relationship was, going to end-if-it-even-ever-started fling. And so my cousin asked me, as she usually did, okay, what are we going to do about this? Can I introduce you to a friend of mine? And then the profound, seemingly simple question: What do you like? What do you want?
And usually, when someone asks this question, a typical answer is something like, I want someone funny, or some kind of cliche personality trait. But I don't know what it was, maybe I was just sick and tired of bouncing back and forth between all these infatuations, I answered it by interest for once in my life. I said, okay. Obviously, I'm looking for someone I am attracted to, who is nice, can take care of me, can take care of himself, yada yada yada... that's a given. But specifically, I want three things, at least. First, I want to be compatible with him in music. I dated too many guys who cannot stand my country, and you know what, that's a part of me. I love country, so what? I get sad when I don't hear it for some time. And I want us to respect each others' taste. Let's be realistic, we're going to be in some long car rides together, music is going to be played a lot in our lives. We can't argue over this over time. And you know what? I come from a musicians' family, that's it. We're going to be lovers of the same music.
Okay, she nodded her head. What's the second thing? I found that I really like to do these outdoorsy things. I want someone to do these things with. I want to admire him for being really good at these things. Is that silly? I mean, I will not have a lot of free time in my life, so I want to be able to share my free time with the person I love doing the things I love, right? So you know, outdoorsy is a must. Snowboarding, hiking, surfing, climbing, that sorta thing, but okay, he's got to have that adventurous edge too to try new things and the things I like, like swing dancing (I know that's kind of off-beat but you know, I like it). But I also just want someone to be healthy in this way, take care of himself and his body. I think I'd eventually feel sad and constricted by a couch potato. That's not a good feeling.
I think we can do these things, she thought. And lastly? There were three things? Okay, let's face it. I'm a nerd. I grew up being a nerd, you can put lipstick on a nerd but it's still going to be a nerd. So I'd like someone who can be an honest to goodness weirdo with me. And okay, he doesn't have to recite every random sci-fi fact, but he's got to at least have liked Star Wars on his own, and won't button mash his way through video games. Basically, I can be cool at parties, I can be cool for short periods of time when I go out, but when I go home I'm going to need to go to full nerd mode. And that has to be okay. It has to be okay if I just want to stay in and read. I have to be able to talk to him about the allegory behind a movie we just watched, and he can't think I'm being stupid for wanting to read into the satire. He's gotta be nerd-compatible. Smart. You know.
The funny thing is that, my cousin didn't need to fish through her friends to help me out. Not long after, I found what I was looking for. Honestly when I was younger, I would've thought the concept was a cheesy hallmark idea, but you really do need to start with yourself first before you can love someone else. And in return, if you can love someone who loves you for who you know you are, you can be yourself while loving this person who you know you honestly like, and who definitely appreciates you back. I met my boyfriend at a rock climbing gym, with both of us doing what we both like. I think that's awesome. And of course, when I finally met him, I knew and I just kept loving him knowing that this was the right one this time. And you know what? I still am.
There were so many things in my life that took so long for me to understand exactly what it was I liked. And when I realize that discovering it was really just awakening a love I had inside all along, it's unstoppable. Maybe I took a long time, but I think it was worth it. This is me, this is who I am, and I am keeping it going by continuing to love. But now that we've reached to this final IDEA, I still have to address something: why did it take me so long? What was the missing piece I was looking for?
Piano.
When I was a kid, picking up all these hobbies and interests and pets, I loved the infatuation of something awesome, great, new, and exciting. What killed it for me was when the thrill was over, and all that's left is what it really is. Now, I think everyone has their own way in life, but I think my way, is that I want to do things with purpose. I want to do what I believe in is right. I don't want to just continue doing something just because I can. I want to continue doing it because I love it. Some people have the argument in saying that nothing is really going to be fun. Getting better at something and continuing it in the long haul always takes work, discipline, and perseverance. Okay, I think that's true, and I do maintain that belief with certain things in life. But when it comes to my passions, when it comes to things that make up who I am by my own choice, I don't believe this is my way. I always want to continue something that, despite the dimming excitement and the ending of the "honeymoon phase," I find meaning in the work and the practice. I want to be connected by it.
Most of the time, this is easy to discern the difference. You try something, you grow tired of it. You drop it. You try something you still like after a while, the affection grows with you despite the hurdles. Okay, that's easy. But what if you began something that was great but never steered you wrong? Like, there was no obvious moment to say: Wow, I overcame an obstacle to maintain my love for this! Let me explain with piano. My relationship with the piano has never really been crazy. My struggles with stage fright aside, playing the piano wasn't that much of a problem for me. In fact, many times, even when I didn't practice that week, I would just sight read the hell out of my sheet music and lie to my piano teacher and say that I had been. Most of the time, she had no idea. My dwindling interest with piano had nothing been short of my inability to earn a growing trust with it. For me, enduring practice wasn't difficult because piano was hard for me, it was the opposite. I'm not saying I'm a genius, I definitely had my errors to correct during practice. But the main battle I had in fighting for my interest with piano was that it just... was what it was. I didn't really know why I did it. I just did it. It didn't do me wrong, and I just let it quietly slip away. I took it for granted.
I never had an a-ha moment in which I thought about what playing the piano meant to me. No one really does that, especially when they start something as a child. No kid really questions why they like balloons. They just do. So I carried on in my life just kind of carrying this notion that I knew the piano but I never had a Hollywood magical moment with it, so whatever. I did it, but I didn't think I loved it. I think we do this often with the good things in our life. We let these good things slip through the cracks while we grow distracted with something more exciting.
When I heard the song today, something hit me. You see, Erik Satie was one of the last composers I spent some time with before my hiatus with the piano. His music wasn't anything I played to show off with, by any means. Often times, I'd work hard with drills and try to perfect the smoothness of my arpeggios and strengthen my fingers to reach for long, changing chords. One of the last things I worked hard to achieve was to play cross-rhythms, getting one hand to play tuplets and the other in quarters and vice-versa. I did it to perfect my technique. It was part of progressing. But when I played Satie's Gymnopedies and Gnossiennes, I was playing for myself. I wouldn't think, I would just move my fingers to the emotions I felt the songs carried. It was like getting lost in the imagery of a poem, where the mind is traveling in a metaphysical space between reality and wherever it is dreams were made. In this space, the bad things that happened in life didn't exist.
So, I felt this moment again listening to the song this morning. This is when I truly began to miss the piano, maybe the first time I had ever missed it this strongly. I suddenly realized, I had a secret I wanted to tell, and this was a feeling that could only be expressed between touch and the music that only my piano could understand. And I wanted so badly to tell it.
No comments:
Post a Comment