A Tale of Choice

I went to a classical music concert at one of the museums. When I told my aunt, she asked what I would do when I get older, thinking I meant a pop concert at first, funny. The pieces included Tchaikovsky, Kreisler and Prokofiev, none of my favorites, but the Violin was heavy in the pieces, so that was good enough for me.

Once upon a time, I started learning how to play the Violin, but I got bogged down by school work (Engineering wasn't a piece of cake for me) Now that I look back with the courage to admit it, laziness and lack of focus I'd say, really made me stop. The lessons were not convienent but anything good or worthwhile is never about convenience.

I watched her on the violin and my heart was filled with pain and lessons. She played with such skill, my heart welled up with tears. I could feel the soul of the pieces.

We tend to explain or excuse away the treasures in us.  It's not easy, of course it's never meant to be 'easy'. Still, you can, we can. Anything you can do now, do it and do it well. It doesn't matter how small the steps are. The stories of the composers themselves are lessons to everyone. Start, you have to start somewhere

I enjoyed the whole piece and found my way out of the museum, on to the next thing, still filled with a bit of joy, a bit of melancholy, a bit of I CAN, no regrets, just the realisation of possibilities. What do I choose? I choose to live.