Act of Love

Yesterday I practised, the piano that is, and it was different. I have been struggling with a deep conflict. For the longest time, I have identified with being a ‘musician’, and yet at the same time, I am aware that any sort of definition strips me off my freedom. I sought to resolve this by detaching myself from music, I stopped practising, the ambition died, and with that the stress of it as well. And yet, I did not feel joyful, or liberated. The last few months I have been working on focus and concentration in general, and through years of practise, music helps me focus instantly. So I have been gradually increasing the time spent with my instrument, with that objective. I had been doing so with a forced detachment. Yesterday, I was tired of it, I stopped thinking, I played with love, and felt the way I used to, when I was much younger and playing piano was a form of meditation and love only, and not a profession. Time just danced past me and I felt like a ‘musician’ again. But that word now meant something else, it is my labour of love, and nothing more.

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