Love and Hate

When I was young my parents were set on having me learn piano, they tried several different teachers that all had different methods of teaching in an attempt to spark my interest. My parents tried every enticement they could think of from showing me how proud they are of me to paying me for each song I learned. But for some reason I could not get passed the fact that I hated piano lessons. Not because I didn’t want to learn how to play or that I wasn’t interested, but because I hated the way I was treated. I still remember my second piano teacher, Mr. Murdock, he was great guy with a great sense of humor. I was twelve years old and I would do anything to get out of piano lessons. I would painstakingly practice all week in an effort to not make a mistake during his teaching appointment, but every week without fail he would playfully hit me or get my pressure points in a way that would send chills down my body every time I hit the wrong key or didn’t hit his expectations.
Over time my parents noticed that I didn’t enjoy the lessons with him but I still had a desire to learn the piano. In an effort to keep hope alive my parents got me a new teach, Mr. Hart, he was a much younger teacher that clearly loved teaching piano and was very patient with my mistakes. I envied his skill on the piano and wished one day I would be able to play like him, he was my piano idol. But every month he would hold exercise lessons at his house for all his students to attend, I remember my first time, I was so excited to meet new friends learning the piano, but to my surprise and utter disappointment, when I arrived I was many years older than any of the other students there. I soon found out that I had been placed with in the lower level group, Mr. Hart would always be encouraging and say, “soon you will be in the upper level group with people your age, just keep practicing”. It relieved only some of my anxiety. I was the fourteen year old with all the ten year olds. It was embarrassing and discouraging. I shortly thereafter quit taking piano lessons. I have only recently realized that I love the piano and music, why did I ever stop? Was it that fact that I was willing to say goodbye to the thing I loved in order to get rid of the thing I hated.
Why is life like that? Always pros with cons, always taking the bad with the good. We must always weigh the options of what is worth it to us. Like when a ten year old sees the ice cream truck drive by, he must make the split second decision of running to mom to beg for 85 cents in and blitzing back to the street in a hope that you were not too late. If only the ice cream truck would stop and wait for you. Why does it seem like they drive away so fast? I just wanted a kiwi strawberry popsicle.
I’m not talking about the great achievements that require intense, dedicated, disciplined, hard work. I can find no better feeling than when one dedicates their entire focus to the accomplishment of a dream and finding the peace and satisfaction of finally accomplishing that dream. I’m talking about those times that we say goodbye to those things that we love because the thing that we hate most gets in our way.
But now that I look back I always wonder if I could have kept learning piano. I wonder if I would have told the piano teachers how I felt things would have changed. If those things I hated about learning piano had gone away, I could have continued my piano education and actually hit my potential of becoming a great pianist.
Is it possible to have a life where we do not have to say goodbye to the things we love so much in order to get rid of the things we hate most?

Realization

The other day I looked in the mirror, I was not satisfied. I have always been very concerned with my appearance, from the way my morning shave looks on my face to the way my hair looks like I don’t care (but its obvious that I do). I scan myself again and again to make sure that the me I want to present is perfect, that the shirt I’m wearing shows my best features, that the pants I wear make me look nice, but not too nice. Then when I need to choose my shirt, wow that’s a headache, it has to make my shoulders look just right, and my arms seen in a way that catches the eye, but if the shirt clashes with my hairstyle, eyes, or amount of hair on my face I have to start all over. The examination progress I go through every day to make sure my physical appearance is the way I want can be laughed at and mocked, but I pull it off everyday, I’m able to meet the people I want to, get the looks I want to get, and most importantly, the opportunities I want. All this is because of the intense criticism I have on my appearance.

            Throughout my life I have been able to cover the parts of me that I don’t want others see. These parts I have concealed with careful scrutiny to make sure others never see the neglected disorder. In fact I hid the mess away so well that I didn’t even notice the growing cobwebs and moldy corners. But the time has come to clean what has long since been forgotten. I have only recently come to know of the great hindrance this mess is to my progression in this life. Now that the time has come to make my dreams come true, the mess I have neglected is now the biggest barrier to making those goals a realization.

            After all the time that has gone by, I am just now seeing what has to change in order to be the person I have always tried so hard to appear to be.  Ever since I realized what I am actually capable of accomplishing by applying the same criticism on those areas people don’t as I do on the areas people do see, I have had a newfound desire to see what opportunities are lurking around the corner. In the short amount of time I have had to start in my new endeavor, I have seen a new life opening up to me that I never thought possible, I am seeing more light than ever before, I am now realizing possibility at blissful happiness. I never thought I would get to this point, the point where I would know what to do and have the ability to carry it out. This experience has turned into one of the most hopeful periods of my life, but now I will always wonder, why did it take so long? What could have happened if the realization would have come sooner? But I guess the better question is… what can happen now that I have realized how to hit my potential?