Playing the guitar has been a most rewarding hobby of mine since I was nine years old.
Though the decision to have me take lessons was made arbitrarily by my parents, I quickly
became enchanted by the six-stringed wonder and passively let it guide me through my life
to this point. This instrument allowed me to see inside myself and, commonly, inside the
minds of those who care about me and look out for my best interests. I was also able to
discover the sometimes unimportant things that adults consider meaningful and how our
value systems differ in that regard. I have learned much from this care-free way to pass
my time, and the process of education began when I first was introduced to the world of
music.
As a child, I began playing for my parents, upon their request and to appease them; it
wasn't until several years later that I realized my love for playing. I had been taking
lessons for less than two years when people started taking notice of my abilities. I
would perform for my parents' friends, who would clap, cheer, and encourage me, but what
I enjoyed the most was playing for myself. In my own space, I could play chords that I
loved, songs that I cherished and scales that would improve my skills, relentlessly,
ruthlessly, until they were perfect. I cared not so much for the end result, a popular
song, for example, but rather for the act of getting to that point. I lived for it, and
no one could take it from me, because it was private, and done on my own, with my own
rules, and governed only by my expectations. After school had ended for the day, I would
play for hours in my bedroom, as this passion began to absorb me. I played constantly,
improving my skills by accident while practicing innumerable exercises and drills. My
desire to be the best I could continued to drive me as I got older.
I soon realized that other people were pushing me to succeed with my playing as well. My
instructor set me up to play at talent shows and other contests, to try to bring out my
competitive side. I would play the best that I could, but I really couldn't be bothered
with what was expected of me. The reason I was still playing, I reasoned, was because I
loved it, and that had nothing to do with anyone else. I knew that I would much rather
play by myself in my room than play something that I didn't enjoy for the benefit of
other people. I decided that if I ever had to play in order to please someone, I would
quit, because that wasn't my philosophy about music and went against everything that I
had faith in. I heard from several people that I was good enough to make money at what I
was doing, and that made no difference in my decision. The idea of accepting money for my
hobby bothered me, and I couldn't grasp why I was being so fervently expected to do so. I
also was unable to understand why I was expected to expose myself: Music was an intensely
private issue for me, and I couldn't share it with a person whom I had never met. I began
to feel disillusioned as a result of this confusion. I had always played because I loved
to play, and suddenly I was expected to discard all my feelings for the pleasure of a
stranger. I knew that if I played for other people, I would be bound by them, and the
quickly passing trends of the music scene, and I didn't want to endorse that or be a part
of it. I also came across a new reaction from the adult figures in my life when I played
for them: Disappointment. I was often lectured on how, with my talent, it was my duty to
present myself to those who wanted to hear me play, as though I were required to prove
myself to everyone. Negativity began to surround and infect my mind, forcing me to
refrain from playing for anyone, lest they make me feel guilty about something I loved to
do. As a result, it became difficult for me to play, even by myself, as I was afraid of
having to feel badly about, simply, playing the guitar.
Currently, I still am a fan of music, but I don't play very often. I like to think that I
encourage people with similar interests to follow what they believe in, and give them the
support to do so. I know that my experience with adults in that regard was unrewarding,
empty, and destructive, and I learned a lot about how they see the world. I don't view
that part of life in the same way. I see it as a personal matter, involving one's own
self, and nothing else. From my experience, as people grow older, I find that they
sometimes forget the wonders a child can appreciate, and instead, look for ways to
exploit the joys in simple pleasures for their own gains
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