I think that love must be like music.
No, I'm not talking about trite old sayings like "my love is like a red, red rose." That's all very well, but you must explain the analogy for it to make sense. Do you mean that your love is like a thorny, bug-bitten rose? A new bud that is barely peeping out? A tired, dry rose that is still red? A rose painted red by the cards of the Queen of Hearts? A rose accompanied by long, spiky thorns that hook your clothes and tear your hands? And don't even get me started on the many varieties of the color red.
What I mean is that love is more like playing the violin.
I'm a violin teacher to anywhere between eight and eighteen students of various ages, depending on the month, year, and sometimes week. If there is anything I have learned, it is that learning the violin requires dedication and creativity and, more often than not, someone to help you along the way.
Most people I have talked to love the violin - its sounds, its melodies, its soul. It has a sweet and pure sound that is unlike almost anything else. I have had people call me and say that they have always wanted to learn the violin; how long will it take to learn [this song] just like the recording?
Anyone who has ever learned the violin has a few responses to choose from for this question. 1) A shrug or a confused look. 2) A vague saying like, "It depends on how long/hard/well you work at it." 3) Maniacal laughter (generally avoid this response). But I digress...
You see, music is built upon two things: love and hard work. You can work all you like at something without loving it, and you can become competent or even brilliant but never give the music its soul. (*Cough Jascha Heifetz cough*). On the other hand, you can love music passionately but neglect practice, preferring for your innate love of the music to give you brilliance rather than time and effort and practice to develop your ability and comfort with the instrument. This approach may eventually lead to a decrease in your love for the music/instrument. Neither method really, truly works to make music, as far as I am concerned. (Perhaps I'm missing something here, but if I am, feel free to excoriate me in the comments.)
However, if you have a love for the music and instrument and the perseverance to practice it daily, miracles happen. You fall in love with the instrument and with music more and more, and, even as you make countless mistakes, you start to do things right more often and regularly create that sound you have been pursuing for what feels like forever. And you end up making MUSIC as it is meant to be.
No, it is not all fun and games. There have been times that I have thrown my music on the floor in frustration. I have screamed and I have cried and I have very nearly decided to give up entirely. I have gone through so many slumps it is not even funny. But I keep working on learning how to play the violin, even after seventeen years. And even though I'm not a top-notch musician (it might have something to do with all those times I went into a slump, a.k.a. didn't practice), I still love playing my violin. Even more, I love practicing. Well, actually, I hate practicing until I practice, at which point I love practicing even more and want to do it the next day.
This has been a really long-winded explanation, but I do have a point. As I said, I think that love is like music. It doesn't have to be romantic love, by any means. It could be friendship or it could be your relationship with your parents or siblings. It could even be a working relationship with your coworkers. Either way, the same principles ring true for relationships as for music.
Let me illustrate this with a practical example. I'm an introvert. I am an extreme introvert most of the time. I regularly struggle with just dealing with people - I mean, whenever I deal with lots of people for prolonged periods of time, I come home and I feel as if all of my energy has been sucked out of me with a straw. It is exhausting . . . and it is frustrating because I constantly feel awkward and incapable of dealing with people. There have been lots of times that I have told myself that I would stop talking to people because I make so many mistakes and hurt feelings and just let the worst side of me out. But if my idea about music and relationships is correct, that would be totally the wrong way to go about getting along with people. Instead, I should try to increase my interactions with others, no matter how hard it is, because in so doing I might actually get better at it and *gasp* learn to like it! Wow!
So if anyone is reading this, what does that mean for you? It means that, if you are having a hard time in any relationships, don't give up. Just don't. Even if it's the other person's fault, give all you have to work with others in a loving, kind way. You'll make mistakes, but enjoy the process, because the end product is worthless without the process.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Saturday, May 23, 2015
Gullibility
My parents homeschooled me until high school. I loved it; it was pretty much the best thing ever. I got to stay at home and play (and do school, of course) outside or wherever I pleased, even when all of the other kids were stuck in classrooms learning. I learned tons, but it was a great thing to be able to take my book outside and read on the front porch or draw on the sidewalk with chalk or even blow bubbles that didn't pop immediately. Life was good.
I did discover one drawback to homeschooling, though: gullibility. A family moved next door to us with two children, both of whom were publicly schooled. The first thing they did when they met us was to play a prank on us. They pretended that one was mute, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I didn't figure out that the boy was not mute for days.
Another instance was when I and my brothers went to our church while our parents attended a meeting there. We played with another young boy who attended the same church, and he thought it would be a great idea to go find all of the "berries" (little blue and pink spheres that grew on weeds in the church lot) and collect them for our parents. He also convinced us that they would be good to eat...so we each had a few. Boy, did we get into trouble!
The list goes on, and I never seemed to learn. In fact, I am still somewhat gullible; the biggest thing to have made me more skeptical has been my education. Now, before you nod knowingly, no, it was not public school that made me more skeptical. I think that that has been due to a lot of English and writing courses in which I had to find reliable resources. The only thing that my one class in public school did for me was to make me hate all humanity. Okay, that is an exaggeration, but I did learn that I didn't like spending time around my peers. I much preferred talking with adults or playing with younger children.
I do have a point with all this. While I was thinking about my gullibility, I wondered a couple of things. First, is there a problem with credulity? After all, we are told that everyone is assumed innocent until proven guilty. Second, if there is a problem, from where does the problem originate? Does it originate with the naïve party, or does it lie with the party that is trying to deceive, even for a practical joke or prank?
While I will admit that I am at times too naïve, or at the very least I take things too seriously most of the time, I do think that homeschooling perhaps has a beautiful side effect that is sometimes undervalued. After all, the kids who successfully pranked me and my siblings must have learned it from somewhere and perhaps been on the receiving end at some point. Perhaps these things were among the most innocuous of the things they learned from their own peers.
What I'm getting at is that I don't think that innocence and naïveté are fundamentally bad. Actually, I wish we could have a more innocent and trusting society overall. Imagine that world for a moment. Imagine a world like the Garden of Eden in which no one had a reason to distrust anyone else. I think that that would be a world in which humor abounds but no one is the butt of any jokes. Imagine taking everything seriously but laughing at the world. Does that sound like a paradox? Perhaps it is, but I think that it is an ideal.
I did discover one drawback to homeschooling, though: gullibility. A family moved next door to us with two children, both of whom were publicly schooled. The first thing they did when they met us was to play a prank on us. They pretended that one was mute, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I didn't figure out that the boy was not mute for days.
Another instance was when I and my brothers went to our church while our parents attended a meeting there. We played with another young boy who attended the same church, and he thought it would be a great idea to go find all of the "berries" (little blue and pink spheres that grew on weeds in the church lot) and collect them for our parents. He also convinced us that they would be good to eat...so we each had a few. Boy, did we get into trouble!
The list goes on, and I never seemed to learn. In fact, I am still somewhat gullible; the biggest thing to have made me more skeptical has been my education. Now, before you nod knowingly, no, it was not public school that made me more skeptical. I think that that has been due to a lot of English and writing courses in which I had to find reliable resources. The only thing that my one class in public school did for me was to make me hate all humanity. Okay, that is an exaggeration, but I did learn that I didn't like spending time around my peers. I much preferred talking with adults or playing with younger children.
I do have a point with all this. While I was thinking about my gullibility, I wondered a couple of things. First, is there a problem with credulity? After all, we are told that everyone is assumed innocent until proven guilty. Second, if there is a problem, from where does the problem originate? Does it originate with the naïve party, or does it lie with the party that is trying to deceive, even for a practical joke or prank?
While I will admit that I am at times too naïve, or at the very least I take things too seriously most of the time, I do think that homeschooling perhaps has a beautiful side effect that is sometimes undervalued. After all, the kids who successfully pranked me and my siblings must have learned it from somewhere and perhaps been on the receiving end at some point. Perhaps these things were among the most innocuous of the things they learned from their own peers.
What I'm getting at is that I don't think that innocence and naïveté are fundamentally bad. Actually, I wish we could have a more innocent and trusting society overall. Imagine that world for a moment. Imagine a world like the Garden of Eden in which no one had a reason to distrust anyone else. I think that that would be a world in which humor abounds but no one is the butt of any jokes. Imagine taking everything seriously but laughing at the world. Does that sound like a paradox? Perhaps it is, but I think that it is an ideal.
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