Peter Shr - Week 3 - X is the Only Thing I'm Good At
There was a time when I wanted to be a pianist. I had already been playing since kindergarten, and I thought that I was good enough. I decided to try because my family said I couldn’t. They thought it was just too late. “Kids who have a chance at your age would already be studying under professors.” I would work so hard that it didn’t matter. I would learn and practice and become better. My love for the piano turned into anger.
If I could just be good at that, I would be fine. I thought that life would be easy if I funneled all its difficulties into the piano. And so I practiced hard and long. I was obsessed. Whenever I wasn’t practicing and was free, I would study piano, listening to pianists’ performances and interviews. I felt like I was venturing into another world, a society where everybody endured the same pain and joy of this deep commitment, where everyone was talented and could converse through improvisations.
I would play any melody that I liked, adding my own style and chord progressions. I thought I realized it when I decided melody was the heart and soul of music. I thought Studio Ghibli songs were proof. And I thought that if I could just find a million-dollar melody, what more did I need?
One summer day.
I practiced for 11 hours straight. I told my parents, who worked most of the day. They barely noticed, and I knew for sure it wasn’t because I didn’t practice long enough.
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I held a silent but strong pride, walking around believing that it would be a long time until I found someone who could play better piano. I would say, “Piano is the only thing I’m good at.”
I tricked myself into thinking this passion was all I had. If the world would allow it and if colleges liked it, what else did I need? I wrung this passion until it ran out of juice.
Recently, this feeling has cooled. I realized that there are still so many things to explore. I accepted then that my family truly looked out for me, even if it hurt my dreams. I saw that piano did not have to be my job or my sense of identity. And so I gave it a little break.
The world and the remaining path of my life didn’t have to be decided right now. Pressures came from the people around me, the competition, and the need to become exceptional somehow. Finding out that I didn’t have to be good at the thing I liked doing allowed me to open up. The keys I held in my hand could either lock myself in or open new doors.
Looking back.
The love I have for playing the piano remains, and I find sanctuary in it from stress as I try new things. But, I realize that my identity is something more than just an instrument.
Something I related to: https://hbr.org/2021/11/when-following-your-passion-turns-toxic
Hi Peter! I can relate to your experience with piano because there was a time when I wanted to be a pianist as well. I’ve been learning piano since I was 6 years old, and because of this, I spent a lot of my childhood convinced that I could pursue piano as a professional career. I’ve now realized that I don’t have to capitalize off of my passions, and I can keep hobbies and my profession as two separate parts of my life. I admire the drive and determination it takes to practice piano for 11 hours a day, and it is clear to see that you were committed to becoming a pianist. Realizing that a passion doesn’t have to be the only part to your identity is a relieving feeling because the pressure that comes with professionally playing music can often make it harder to continue to love playing a certain instrument. I’m glad you’re still able to love playing the piano despite pressures from the people around you. I took playing the piano rather seriously when I was younger, and because of this, the interest I have in piano has diminished and I started to explore other instruments instead. I also agree that playing an instrument can help relieve the stress from other aspects of life, such as academics. I often play the piano when I want to calm myself down from a busy, exhausting day and many pianists I know feel the same way. Although it’s easy to fall into the trap of finding something you are good at and then being fixated by it, it is much more beneficial to branch out and find new hobbies and activities to try regardless of the possibility of failure.
ReplyDeleteHi Peter! I really liked what you had to say about a hobby growing toxic, since I could definitely relate to it with examples from my own life. The one sentence you had about keys either being used to lock yourself in or open new doors really stood out to me—when I first read it, it felt like something straight out of a movie narrative. That sentence was phrased in a powerful way that summarized your claims especially well, and the paragraph around it added to the effect of that sentence. Some other parts of your blog post that stood out were the two-or three-word paragraphs that you used to provide the time frame for the narrative. Those paragraphs added new levels of clarity and organization to your writing that regular transition phrases cannot deliver; they also created a more somber and reflective tone in your writing, which I appreciated. On a completely different note, your title was very unique and attention grabbing, and it made me very curious about what you were going to say in your blog post.
ReplyDeleteHi Peter! I really like the narrative style of your blog. Previously you wrote reviews on Kung Fu Panda, which I think are very deep and insightful, but I also really like your newer style of narrating your blogs first-hand, which was intriguing to read. I especially like the one sentence where you described how the keys in your hand could either lock, or open doors. The rest of the blog is wonderfully written, but that one comparison blew my mind. I have never thought about how a passion or hobby could turn toxic, but you exemplify it in your blog very well. In a weird way, despite our history with piano being quite different, I can really emphasize with you. While you seem to have always enjoyed the piano, I was actually forced into playing the piano by my parents. While you funneled your frustrations into your piano, I derived frustration from it. However, as you have learned to embrace other things and open up your mindset, with my parents giving up on my future piano career, I actually found myself beginning to enjoy the piano more and more. Despite not actually liking the piano, I still constantly played it due to the influence of my parents, making me feel like I had no other skills. However, I have similarly learned to open up my interests, and see piano less as a necessity, but as a fun hobby.
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ReplyDeleteHi! I found your opening line about how your family's doubts fueled your determination to try really inspiring. It was also fascinating to read how this lead you to push your limits and dedicate so much time to your passion. I can relate to both aspects of your journey, whether it's striving to prove oneself to others or being driven by an inner passion. Moreover, your story serves as a reminder that it's never too late to pursue our dreams and challenge ourselves, regardless others’ opinions. This resonated deeply with me. Personally, I have always felt overcome by this insatiable curiosity and desire to explore and do everything; from rhythmic gymnastics to fencing and engaging in exchange programs. However, the desire to try everything often clashed with the "reality" that it was "too late" to explore and the pressures of preparing for college. Your narrative's underlying message about the importance of breaking free from these constraints and pursuing our passions nevertheless really struck a chord with me
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