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Some say that before we are born, every aspect of our lives is chosen for us. Each hardship has a purpose; each pleasure a piece of strength to regenerate us, so we may continue onward down our paths until the end. Regardless of our pace, we always end up where we were meant to be from the beginning. Our bodies simply the vessels our souls were placed in to use for the journey laid before us.
Others say we are given the gift of choice. That we create our goals based on belief, dreams, and our deepest desires. As to how we go about achieving them and turning them into more than just checkpoints in our lives is up to us. The path is spread before us with the ultimate goal waiting at the end for us all. Yet, between our starting lines and our grand finales, lies millions of possibilities, all branching to better or worse situations.
Perhaps it is even both; with certain events meaning to happen as personal tests, to prove who we are, how strong we are, and whether or not we are worthy of what is given to us. Perhaps they are meant as learning experiences for us to better improve ourselves and be prepared for whatever mountain springs before us, even if it is not our own. Why else would consequences follow every action we choose to make?
Whatever the case maybe…Whatever you believe…We cannot deny the fact that life is a challenge. It often throws use a curve ball that knocks off balance and we constantly find ourselves struggling just to breathe. We all look for something in our lives to help us battle away the wolves that snarl at our doors. For some, escaping reality is the best solution even if it is just for a moment.
It would be a lie to say that my life has been easy just as it would be a lie to say it’s been difficult. I know of others who have suffered more than I have; my sympathy goes out to them and I wish to help when I can. Yet, at the same time, I had begun to bottle my open pains away. I began to feel myself get eaten away by them; I began to feel like I was fading away. The transaction from childhood to adulthood was proving to be the greatest challenge I had ever faced.
All around me people had plans…They were going somewhere…Old friends were in college with ideas of their careers but where was I? I was still sitting silently in a fantasy; my dreams clouded my view of reality but perhaps, I did it on purpose because I did not want to believe that those dreams could fade. I did not want to accept the paper pushing that others knew they would eventually settle for. I had an idea of what I wanted from life but it was a matter of life giving me an opportunity to chase after the fluttering butterflies of my deepest desires.
But where was I going…? What was I meant to do…? What if I screw everything up…? Ruin my life just as it’s beginning…? What if I lose all I had worked so hard to achieve so far…?
The dreaded question of “What if” was taking me down a path I did not want to travel. Even with friends promising to stay at my side and even with my family there, I felt as if their promises of everything be ok were hollow. (How could it be ok if they were the one’s telling me that my decisions were wrong?) I needed a break…I needed an escape…Games were not working anymore…With writing, my pen stood still out of fear that putting my thoughts into words would case more harm than good, just as it had in the past. I began to turn to music when things looked grim; Apocalyptica was my safe heaven.
The deep tones of the cello…It soothed me. It felt as if an angelic voice as singing a comforting sonata to me. It felt my pain, my worry, my frustration…It knew the words I needed hear without even uttering a single sentence. I grew to long for it; I grew to love it. Remembering the passion that flickered in the bands eyes as they played before me a year ago only threw wood into the developing fire.
For awhile, I debated if I should purchase a cello. The investment would last a lifetime and would require much dedication. I would need to pay for the instrument, for it’s upkeep, and for lessons. It wouldn’t be cheap…Was it worth it? As the months of uncertainty and stress continued, and as others began to pick up long desired hobbies, I knew it was time. It took me about a month to find one I liked. I knew its quality would be lacking since I couldn’t afford, nor did I want to spend that much on a beginning cello. Eventually I stumbled upon a good bundle and a cello with a outfit I loved. The rich red, dark color…It was for me.
In less than a month after finding it, it became mine. The road has been rough so far, especially since I did not find an instructor until now but I know that I will not let this slide. If you do not believe me, you should have seen the smile I tried to hide as I listened to the instructor play my cello when it was finally tuned right.
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Today was the first day with the instructor. The overall lesson was uneventful but very enlightening. It turns out that the trouble I had with tuning with cello was due to the strings being placed in the wrong pegs. He switched them over for me and introduced me to a different tuning device that I had been using: a tuning folk. He also gave me some pointers on tuning it.
After that, we spent some time going over posture and form. He showed me how to properly hold the bow and explained the importance, and some of the history, of why cellist play the way they do. He then began to guide me on how to strike each string with the box by holding it with me, making a few strokes, and then letting go so I could do it myself while stilling holding his hand out to show me which direction and what angle the bow should be at when I play.
We did this for awhile before he went through the book I had and pointing some things out for me to begin practicing with. Using a market, he marked where my fingers should be placed in order to play the E, F#, and G notes. I’m support to play a string at a time, focusing right now on the D string.