Learning Music After Retirement, & Having Fun Doing it

The importance of how learning is an ongoing process, the need for a hobby to be established after retirement age, translated…

As children grow up, my mother in her sixties decided to pick up on her dreams when she was younger: taking up the music lessons.  She’d not just signed up for the electric piano classes at the community center, she’d, disregarded my father’s objections, signed HIM up for the sax lessons.  Seeing how the two bought their instruments, and as time for the classes came, they’d, rushed out, packed the big and small packs to take along, and naturally, as children, we are, most, supportive of them.

Then ever since as I’d come back home on the weekends or holidays, I’d, heard music, “floating in the air”—for the players of recorder in the music classes, I’m sure, that we can all agree, that the sound that came out as beginners played, isn’t musical.  As the cat heard the music started, sounding off, it’d, scattered away, quick, with that look of, “What did I do to deserve this” on its face.  But, my father has a serious nature, and on occasions, he’d complained about how my mother “made” him go to class, but he’d still, picked up the sax every day and, started from the basics of blowing air between the reeds, making the sounds, and, playing the simple notes, and each practice session runs for over two hours at a time.  To not bug the neighbors, my father would hide inside the bathrooms, shut the doors and the windows as he’d practiced inside the loo.

And my mother, who’d, started all of this, wouldn’t be beaten by my father, she’d taken the piano for several months, and, at her instructors recommendations, she’d started playing the flute.  The sax and the flutes are both woodwind instruments, but, the sax sounded fuller, while the flute sounded, like floating in the air, the two instruments go on and off inside the house, and it’d, made the listeners, uneasy, but the cat didn’t mind, as my mother sat herself down to play, it’d hopped onto my mother’s knees, and, lay down, sometimes, the cat would, stare, deep into my mother’s eyes, like he was enjoying this sound that’s, at the same frequency of his, meowing.

illustration from UDN.com

As my mother got into playing, she’d, poured her heart and soul into it, and she’d, complained to us on how she’d, hit a fork in her practice sessions.  Until one day, she’d shared with me excitedly, that her high school instructor started playing the flute when she was seventy, and, she’d continued playing, and she’s having a decade recital soon, that she will, follow her teacher’s, lead too, she’d found herself a private lesson instructor, from the pop music, she’d, advanced to the classical.  The teacher was demanding of the aperture, and I’d seen my mother focusing on sticking her tongue out, with her mouth open.

And, after awhile, the cacophony became, less and less, I can already, sit quite, settled in, in the living room, as my mother played the flute, sometimes, I’d, closed my eyes, and imagined the poetic verses as I listened to her play.  While my father favorite tune, “Amazing Grace” started with amazing, and now, there’s, the grace “factor” that’s, included in too.  Being an avid learner, he’d not only satisfied in reading the simplified sheet music, he’d even started, picking up my old sheet music, and learned to read the notes off the staff.

As our family gathered for the New Year’s this year the two of them put on a show, and, gotten a full applause from all around the room.  I can’t help but feel in awe, no matter how old you are when you started pursuing your dreams, it’s never too late.  Your lives are, fulfilled, you can find friends who shared the same interests, and it helps activate your mind, to slow down the process of aging, and it gives you that sense of achievement too.  My mother also testified, that picking up the piano was a breakthrough for her, that was the very first time she’d ever, chosen to take the lessons seriously, and knew, that she could, do it!  As we were growing up, being forced to sit at the piano to play was torture for us, but, as my parents got older, started picking up on the instruments, they’d not only, entertained themselves, but us too!

And so, this, is the right attitude that we should all carry, when we pick up on something, like these two older adults, and, maybe it’s because of their mindsets being, more matured, nobody’s pushing them to learn the musical instruments, they’d picked it up on their own, that was why they’re, able to, play it with so much joy.

A Lifelong Hobby

It’s NEVER good, to PUSH your children into something, instead, you should, allow them, to discover just how much they love that hobby you want them to take up, on their own, and, don’t force them to sit down at that piano, to practice for an hour each and every day, because that’s, torture, instead, allowing them, to discover their own hobby, by themselves, slowly, if they’re, mean to, translated…

After reading the writer, Tseng’s “Meeting Up Again with the Piano” on March 4^th, it’d, made me recall my childhood memories, and extended into my current days.

My mother was an elementary school teacher, in the low wages of the fifties, she’d, squeezed out the tuitions, or us to go from the countryside of Chihshan to Kaohsiung to take piano lessons, and told us we all needed to sit at the piano and practice for an hour at least per day.

Being as young as we were, how would we know our parents’ hearts, in the three, four years of lessons, going to the piano teacher’s house was like going to the guillotine, I’d, hated it but not known, how to, rebel against it.

The pressures of keep going in my academic WAS, a great excuse for not taking the piano lessons anymore, seeing how my eldest and second eldest brother entering into the middle school years, getting away from the “guillotine”, and I, the only one who remained in the torture chambers.  This day had, finally, arrived, before the schools started in my middle school year, as the piano teacher played a new song for me, I’d told him, “I’ll be starting in middle school soon, I can’t take lessons with you anymore!”, seeing how shocked my piano instructor looked, I’d felt, that I’d, made my, revenge!

a child that looks, engaged…photo from online

During the summer of my second year in middle school, a group of us gone to a classmate’s home to hang, there was, a white grand piano in the room, and the group of us, started, tapping at the keys, I’d, followed the sheet music, and played the notes on it, and, I was shocked, that this easy to play piece had, brought out, that familiar, tune, and I’d, borrowed the sheet music, took it home to practice, the piece was, “Fur Elise”, as my second eldest brother who was in high school heard me played, he’d, sat down next to me and started playing too.

Because of the foundations of piano lessons lain earlier in my life, we’d found the sheet music we liked and started, playing again, from the classical to jazz, and, when we got into it, we would have a four-hand playing.  We’d played on, for decades, and it’d become, a hobby that we keep, for life now, from before, we’d not wanted to take the lessons, using our academic stresses as an excuse, and, later we’d realized, that in a lot of the times, piano playing, is a good method of, stress-relief.

And, naturally, I’d, wanted to, pass this, gift to my own young, a decade ago, when my daughter was in the elementary years, I’d, coaxed her onto the piano bench, with my own experience in childhood, I knew better, not to force it on her, that I’d had to, give her the rewards too.  My daughter wasn’t the talented sort, to help her continue learning the piano, I’d, carefully, guided her, sometimes, I’d, not forced her to play, to practice, and at others, I’d, told her she’d, needed to sit down and play for a while.

And finally, we’d, made it through, six whole years, and she had, all her fundamentals down pat, just about, and I’d, sat with her on the four-hand piano, and, before the pressures that is about to come toward her at the end of her last year of middle school, I’d decided, to end her lessons, and gave her a “graduation ceremony”, I’d told her, “this is the end of my demands for you to play the piano, from here on out, you get to decide, whether or not YOU want to, play.”

And, surely enough, I’d not, seen her, sit down on the piano bench since, and, three years flew by, at the start of this year, I’d heard her telling me that she’d wanted to, “practice my skills back again.”, I can’t, believe my ears.  Yet, it’d been, two whole months, past her high school entrance exams, and I’d not heard, a single note yet, I’d, told myself, don’t expect too much.

Several days ago, as I came home from outside, before I’d turned the keys, I’d already, heard the piano songs, coming out of the living room, and I’d felt, moved……………

So, this still just showed, how as parents, we should, NEVER force our own dreams onto our young, we may give them lessons, if they ask us to let them learn, but, we shouldn’t, FORCE them to play the musical instrument, I mean, they’re still young children, and children, have limited attention span, and forcing them to SIT down for hours to practice the songs, it’s just, too unrealistic, and, this may end up, slaughtering the love your children had originally, of music, and have the opposite effect of what you’d, hoped to give to them.  If they’re meant to pick it back up again, then they will.

Karaoke Sing-Off of the Elderly

A common activity, a hobby of sorts, shared by this group of, elderly in the community, translated…

The afternoon sun felt, warmed, I took the white poodle that belonged to the elderly woman downstairs out for a walk at the park.  As I strolled, I’d heard the voices singing.  Taiwanese, Hakka, Japanese, Mandarin.

I’d followed the voices curiously, found that there was a blue pickup parked under the tree at the entrance of the park, with the karaoke machine on it.  And there were, many elderly accompanied by their nurses in wheelchairs there, extending their necks, longing to have a good karaoke session.  They’d started blurting aloud the titles of the songs, and the young owner of the truck made the selections for them, each song costs only, ten-dollars, with everybody taking turns.

like this…

photo from online

All the elders were smiling and grinning from ear to ear, with the mic to their lips, and one of them, half way through the song, stated, “oops, forgot the lyrics!”, and one sang for two lines, then, “the key is too high, I can’t get up there!”, an elderly gent ordered a classic Taiwanese tune, “Pillows of Two”, and after a few lines, he’d sighed, “the pillow fell to the floors!”

And, even though, there were, the multitudes of actions, everybody still laughed and got along joyously.  Thinking about how these elders were, immobile, they have only limited place to hang out, the karaoke set up on the truck allowed them to get their voices heard, to get what they feel out, and clearly, this was, worth, more than, any materials.  As for whether or not they were excellent as singers, it wouldn’t, matter.  After all, they are not, professional singers, at their age, willing to open up their mouths to sing, it’s, worth, a lot, isn’t it?

And so, this, is the hobby that’s, shared by this, group of, elderly, and it’s, a very important, socialization forum for them, because these elderly are in wheelchairs, or immobilized, and they’re mostly kept indoors, but, there’s this service provided for them, to hang out together, to sing along together, it’s something wonderful, that the older generations can share.

Regarding the Extracurricular & the Camps

Getting involved, in non-school related activities here, translated…

My youngest was headed out early in the morn, because the camp from her major was starting, as a freshman, she is very enthusiastic of all the activities hosted by her major.  I remembered, that, we’d, headed out before light for her last thing too, in the nearly zero degree icy cold floor of the CKS Memorial Hall, rolled around on the floorboards, it was her salsa club of her high school, she was responsible for coordinating a “recital of her younger schoolmates.”

My youngest started dancing from her kindergarten years to date, dance had become, her favorite.  It’s just, that her school teachers mentioned how if she’d worked too hard on her “hobby”, it may, cause her grades to slip, but she’d, asked us, not to worry, “the extracurriculars are important rites of passage, just let them give it all they got for this!”  but, I’d, found my daughter, with that lack, of enthusiasm, turned out, she had, dropped her activities, because she’s still, trying to figure out what she’s good at academically, she’d told us, “I’m more than certain about dance, and anything else, is not good enough for me.”  Until her final year in high school, she’d, transferred from the sciences, to the social sciences, and now, she’s, in the major she has great interests in, communications, and, she’d, danced every day, and now, she’d, gone out early in the morn, for her summer camp activities.

the assortments of activities, not related to the academic…photo from online

My eldest and I, were both into the extracurriculars in our high school years, I’d, gotten involved in two groups, one was for vanity, the band, the other, school paper.  Being in band, I’d, played the trumpet, without much talent, just so I can, put on that marching uniform that made me shine on flag day, and, walking across the podium before the President’s Office.  As for the school paper, it was, where my heart lies, I’d, let my own, writing talents, poured out.  I’d recalled, how hard it’d been that I had, worked, on every topic, how I’d, gone to the shopping marts, to find the old photos, to do the interviews, and published my not-mature-enough writings, wanted to pour all of my doubts of the world, my feeling lost for my future, along with my dissatisfaction toward school, all out in the open.

I can no longer recall how the periodical had, turned out, but, my grades, slipped, and, that became, a F-A-C-T.

I’d found a university that I really don’t hate to study in, but the major I was in, it wasn’t anywhere near my interest profile.  And, by then, editing the periodicals, no longer, satisfied my mind, maybe back then, love was, taken up half of my mind.

And yet, because I’d, lost love, I’d, decided, to go for the president of the club, to let myself, embrace this major I’d, found myself to be in, tired, to learn to be a, leader.  And so, the memories of my college years, were revolved around the freshmen orientations, the camps, the seminars, the book fairs, the competitions.  I recalled all the guest lecturers I’d invited, remembered all the shows we’d put on for the freshmen orientations, recalling that freshman ball we hosted, remembered the singing and skit competition I’d, set up, remembering being in the trainees of the officers of the clubs of the school too, along with how I continued being the team counselor as I went into my senior year.

I’d once not wanted to graduate, because I loved being a student too much.  And, the best memories of being a student, are from, the extracurricular activities, as we’d, entered into the groups on our own, there’s, too many connections there.  Like how I watched my eldest get too excited as she’d, started, editing the footage, like how I imagined my youngest happily, leading the freshmen, because she’s, finally, a sophomore.

volunteer counts too!  Photo from online

Some had found their significant others in the extracurricular groups, like my eldest brother and sister-in-law.  A lot of people found what they truly loved, like my youngest and I.  Recently, I’d, edited a periodical of a bookstore, and, I’d, found my passions there, and that, was when I’d, recalled, this, was what I loved, doing back then.

And so, these extracurricular activities in college, they’d not, only enriched our schooling careers, but it may also, point us, toward the directions of our, future jobs too, and so, don’t be too worried, when your own young got too involved in their extracurricular activities, besides, the university years aren’t about making the grades, it’s about, discovering, who we are!!!

My Wife, Intrigued by the Shadows

Her hobbies, translated…

In recent years, my wife started taking up photography, in about two years, she’d, ruined three cameras, even the one that I had, I’d, contributed to her, and, in no more than a year, it’d, “retired” too.

Whether if it’s out on a trip, or just, strolling in the Botanical Gardens, my wife would always carry a camera with her, she’d looked, then, taken the shots, some of the scenes, don’t look that vital to me, she’d be too focus, documenting it, like she’d, become a field researcher, or a photography news reporter or something.

like what this young child is doing???  Photo from online…

She’d mostly taken photos of the weeds, the flowers, a small flower, she could use various angles, distance, and shoot so many shots, it’s a wonder, that the longevity of her cameras is less than a year. But, what my wife loved photographing the most, are the shadows, and so, I’d, nicknamed her a “shadow” fanatic. Any shadow, to her, looked intriguing, the plants’ shadows at the Botanical Gardens, she’d wanted to take shots of, said there are spots, that you don’t normally see; the reflection of the large tree outside the Yun-Shuan Sun Memorial on the windows of the mansions close by, she’d felt they’d, swayed with the wind, that it was, beautiful, surely, a shot. As we’d walked across the bridge, and, our reflections were imprinted into the waters, she’d, taken shots of; the egrets, the birds waiting by the pond, looking for the fish at the Da-An Forest Park, a must.

There were, too many photos she’d taken shots of, I can’t recall them all. But, once we’d sat at a café inside the Wenzhou Street alleys, there was a Chinese parasol tree, with the leaves growing in fully, the afternoon sun shone through the leaves, landed outside the walls of the café, the wind blew, and the shadows, they’d swayed. I’d, compared the photos she’d taken, and suddenly, understood why the older eras of Chinese people called it “the Shades of Light”; the sun and the shadows they changed, with the times of day.

Thinking on it, my wife, the photographer, must’ve thought, that in the instants of the shadows that changed, capturing it with her camera, would turn it into eternity.

With this photography fanatic at my house, and so, as I saw the potted plants on the lanai, the shadows, reflected onto the doors, I’d immediately, called her to it.

And so, this woman loved the look of the shadows, and, she’d taken up this hobby that’s good for her, and, her preferences in photography is unique, only to her.

Changing a Thought, Your World Opens Right Up

Found something that kept her calm, through her husband’s temporary “fix”, translated…

As I accompanied my child to off the island to school, other than helping him settle in, I’d also taken the opportunity, to visit locally, and enjoy this little peaceful time I have. In the embrace of Mother Nature, having been stressed out too long in the nitty-gritties of the day-to-day, I’d, broken free, like a bird from a cage, I’d felt, so very free.

After a few days, although I’m now, recharged spiritually, but my body was having the fatigues from the travels. There’s a saying, “There’s NO place like home”, it’s, so very, true, as I’d reached out, and touched the doorknob of my own house, I’d finally felt, that I can, finally rest easy. But, as I’d, pushed open the doors, my steps, as well as my smiles, froze solid, and, the luggage I had in my other hand fell.

The lanai in front was a huge mess, and, the table and chair where I usually sat leisurely to read, was pushed to the side, the cardboard boxes, the plastic baskets, everywhere, the originally cleaned tile flooring, covered in muddy footprints. There’s, that awful feeling from the pit of my stomach, I’d trembled, as I’d, turned on the lights, I’d, stood there, with my jaws, dropped, in shock, couldn’t make a single sound.

Looking around me, there was, a huge pile of dirt the size of a small mount, and the bamboo had, grown taller than I am, blocking the screen doors; the other bamboos, grown too large out of proportions; and, the gardenia with the branches like the antlers of deer, lying to the side. The piles of fertilized soils, the granite pieces, all, scattered, across the ground…………it’d, looked like, a BOMB had been, dropped here.

About a week ago, my husband looked around on the lanai, and, he’d, measured the space, with his calculating gazes, I’d caught a glance, at his usual act, I’d called out, “oh no!” to myself, I’d, rushed up to him, to ask him what was up. Just as I’d suspected, he’d started, getting so enthusiastic, describing what his plans were, of having a small garden on our lanai, and, I’d, rained down on his parade, “Please, stop your delusions, you just wanted to be the frontiersman, and I’d needed to, clean up after you, like from before when we kept the birds, and the dogs too…………”

He knew he wasn’t going to win the arguments, he’d, fallen silent, and not mentioned it again, I mistakenly thought, that he’d, stopped pondering about it, without knowing, that this, was, only the calm before the storms.

That very night, one of us carried the sour face, the other, scrubbed up the mats, and there’s, this awful tropical depression visiting our home, followed by the days of silent treatments, the air, froze up.

like this???  Not my photograph…

Every day I’d waken up, pulled back the drapes, and, I was, face-to-face, with this withered garden, it was, truly, depressing. And, I just couldn’t deal with it anymore, rolled up my sleeves, tidied it up out there.

I’d first, trimmed the branches off the bamboos, remove the stems of the dying bamboo, the yellowed leaves as well, them, made the space, for the gardenias. After half a day of sweating it all way, I’d, gotten rid of my displease. And, I’d, taken a look at the scene, and, it was, breathable, and finally, I’d, rid myself, of the dark clouds that loomed over me these past couple of days.

More importantly, I’d put the fruit trees I’d especially loved which I’d planted inside a pot from before into the ground. And, in this garden which I’d once fought not to have, I’d, placed in some of my most cherished plants. Because, knowing my husband, my husband, who only has very short attention span, will soon forget the existence of this garden, and, I will be, the faithful gardener, who will always be looking after this small patch of my own dreams.

So, this, is how this woman changed her mind, to pull herself out of that tropical depression that she’d been in because of her husband’s temporary fix of having a small garden on their lanai, and this still showed, just how powerful the thought is, change a thought, your world lights up!

No Matter How Hard It Got, He Still Made His Art, a Student with Cerebral Palsy: I Found My Wings, in My Art

A story of inspiration here, to all, from the Newspapers, translated…

A severely handicapped third-year student with cerebral palsy, who is in the Public He-Mei Experimental School, in the art departments, He enjoyed going to school a lot, and, loved art more, but, his limbs are slowly, becoming more and more stiff by the day, he couldn’t draw or paint on his own, gladly, with the help of his physical therapist and art instructor, they’d made instruments to help him draw and paint, he had the chance, of developing his art skills further, and was able to, knock on the doors of related majors of the varied universities.

He lives in Nantou, in the past twelve years’ time, his mother, Ke would drive him to and from school, and help him to study in the arts.  Ke said, He loved going to school, and, even when he’d fallen ill, he still refused to take a leave of absence, several times that he was kept at home to rest up, he’d started getting upset, and her and her husband had lifted up the white flags toward their son’s requests, and, allowed her child, to “play video games to his heart’s desires, and eat whatever he wanted to,” to stop him from objecting on not being in school.

“I’d made new discoveries at school every single day!”, said He, the teacher taught him to draw, taught him how to use the computer programs to create art, although he was immobilized, his heart soared in the creations freely, he’d hoped, to be like the main character of the latest Miyazaki animated feature, to fly with the wind, to never give up, until he’d achieved his own dreams too.

Every time before he’d started creating his art, He would put on the special wrist support created for him by his art teacher, Lin, and others, and he’d used a sponge, to help him hold on to the pen that he was drawing with, dipped the brush, into the specialized foam cup, and worked hard, to “dip” onto the drawing papers, the multiple dots had formed a picture, like the Western Impressionist artworks.

He’s handicaps exacerbated by the days, and, he’d needed six to eight times more the time that regular students would take, to finish a painting, he’d taken an entire semester, to finish the watercolor piece, “Autumn”, he’d used bright colors, it was breathtaking, and he was invited to put on an art exhibition with the He-Mei Art School.

The principal, Lee, from He-Mei Art School said, that He is of normal intelligence, and knew well, that he is slowly, losing control of his own body, and, the angle to which his wrists and arms are able to move is being reduced by the day, and so, he’d started, planning his studies after he gets admitted into university, and, his spirits are moving, and he is, a role model for his peers.

And so, this high school aged kid didn’t let his handicap stop him from doing what he enjoys, and, with the accommodations made by his teachers and school, as well as with the support from his parents, he was able, to live his dreams.

The Coming of the Empty Nest

How to occupy your time, after the kids are all grown, translated…

The friends around me all slowly, marched into the empty nest stage of their lives.

A said, that her daughter went abroad to study for a little over two years now, her son is about to follow his sister’s footstep soon, it’d caused her and her husband to lose the focus of their lives all of a sudden.  B said, that her two daughters went to the southern tip of the island to look for work and to live, another child will be sent off to work, the workplace is too far from home, and he can only stay in the dormitory of the company.  C said lightly, since her child grew up, he’d told her he was going to volunteer abroad, to work-vacate, he’d rarely stayed put in Taiwan during the summers or the winter breaks, and right after her son graduated, he’d immediately gotten accepted to a grad school abroad, went abroad to pursue his studies.  D’s daughter went to work for a foreign airline, and barely made it back to Taiwan in a couple of months, and her son works in Thailand, from before, she’d focused her entire attention on her children, and now, she doesn’t know how she’s going to pass the time.

And my good friend, E had been planning this day for a very long time, before she retired, she’d taken up calligraphy and drawing, fitting to her interests, and she’d trained as a volunteer at the museum district, to work as a guide.  With her children growing up, leaving the nest, getting married, her husband followed her, other than taking classes to enrich himself, he’d also done tai chi at the park, exercised regularly, and gone on tours, and from time to time, they’d taken cruises too, or gone on self-help trips with a couple of good friends, they didn’t seem to be impacted by the empty nest at all, they’d even shared with the younger generations their travels using LINE.  The two of them are at home anywhere they are, as for the home that’s here, they’d filled it up with happiness, and they don’t feel that void.

This still just shows, how important it is, to plan out the times after your retirement, because there WILL be a shift in focus of your lives, with your children all grown up, flying out, if you can’t find things, hobbies, to occupy your time, you will surely feel that wave of emptiness attacking you, but, like this couple who’d jam-packed their schedules, that, is a great way of dealing with the empty nest.

Happiness Comes from Within, on Music & Life

The impact of music on life, translated…

Piano is music, that, was the simplistic impressions I’d held during the childhood years, because growing up in Hong Kong, I’d only come in contact with music from my teacher’s accompaniment in piano class.

I’d always imagined myself in front of the piano, my fingers glided across the keyboard, with the melodies in my head, ups and downs, slow, or fast; as my hands stopped, so had the performance.  And this music was, saved, only, for my ears.

One day in fifth grade, my mother told me to come see her after school, after she’s off work, she took me to the dentist.  My mother worked at Central in Hong Kong, it’s the business center of Hong Kong, other than the jungle of tall office buildings, there are also, a ton of high end shops, in the time of waiting for my mother, I’d wandered into a high-end piano shop, and, I’d held down my unsettled mind, fearing, that I might damage the instruments—every piano there, was so expensive!

“Hey, how come there’s such a tiny piano?”, I’d walked closer to it, it was, a miniature classic toy piano that’s with European style and dark brown color.  Although it was only a toy, but you can touch every single key on it, and can hear its sounds.  That day after I got home, I’d quickly counted the bills and the coins in my turtle piggy bank, and stashed the amount, in my shoes, I’ll bring it home this weekend.

Every day after school, I’d sit, in front of the small electric piano.  And, as my fingers pressed down on the keys, my musical journey began, up and down, quick, or slow.  I’m the only one who gets the melodies I played.

Because I’d gone to play it every single day, my piano and I developed this connection with one another, it’d sang out the songs that’s kept, at the bottom of my heart.  And still, in just two short years, its time is up, and slowly, “walked” off the stage.  Even back then, I’d felt the nostalgia of “the love will always be here”.

When the Listener and Singer Combined into One

The most expensive thing we have in the house, was what my father called, “Our four girls”, so, there wasn’t any budgeting for any of us to take the talent classes, I’d never mentioned of wanting to take up piano lessons.  Second year in middle school, the nuns at my school held a free course, Cantonese songs.  The free was tempting to me, I’d signed up immediately.

We’d first started with the conversations, without the male/female specifications, later on, we’d learned to sing the tunes, counted out the beats, as we sang along.  It’s a different kind of music, truly, turns out, there are other forms of music outside to piano!  Every day I’d hid out on the back lanai to practice, normally, it would be after nine in the evening, after I’m done with my homework, and the chores around the house, I’d started singing, “I’m alone, holding on to the lute………”, but, my hard practices had gotten the complaints from the neighbors, and so, ended, my dreams of singing Cantonese tunes as a teenager.

Later on, going to school, starting a career, getting married, having children, it’d filled up my itinerary, and, taking up music lessons is still, an extravagance, and I can only, hope.  Until one day, as I was doing the dishes, I’d hummed the small tunes, and, penned the lyrics into the songs, using what’s in my heart, and, the dish dryer in front of me became a P.A., for every line I’d sung, the voice rang around the room, and my heart replied too.  Although, this, is still, the music, that only I know of, but I was moved, without knowing why, it’d made me realized, that without the notes on the sheet music, I can still, sing out the happiness inside my heart.

Turns out, so long as your heart’s still there, the music will also be, when the singer and the listener became one, everything will fall into its rightful places.  This, is the most, intoxicating music.

And so, this woman’s love of music is amazing, although she was bombarded by the realities of her own life, her household economics wouldn’t allow her to take up music, and yet, she’d still carried the music loving heart, and that, is the importance, of having a hobby, because you don’t need to entertain anybody else, you just entertain yourselves.

Outside the Lines of the Sheet Music Pages

How music had had an impact on someone’s life, translated…

The year I turned nineteen, I’d conquered the musical notes, with the strength of conquering Mt. Everest, because of my older cousin who was studying in N.T.U., I’d had another level of understanding of it…

The Musical Adventures of My Childhood Years

At age six, the group of us in kindergarten hopped scotch, but instead, I’d stayed indoors, and treated the black and white keys, as well as the lined sheet music as my toys instead.

With the years of taking lessons increased, I’m like a young calf, no longer just satisfied by the pastures I was grazing on anymore, wanted to run even farther off, to find another possibility for myself.  And so, other than the practice classical pieces that my instructor had assigned to me, I’d started trying out those more upbeat music, started with the sonatas to new classics, and the pieces played by Richard Clayderman, all became my practice pieces.

And still, the result of my childish adventures are half and half.  What I gained the most about this period of experimentation was, that I’d opened up a door for myself toward popular music, when I was in the fourth grade, the Chinese romance writer’s books were televised into primetime soap operas, I’d hummed the theme song, and written down the notes of the music, and a lot of my classmates had asked me for the copies of the sheet music I’d written out, and I’d met more good friends.  What was worse, was that I’d gotten too intrigued by the flowery ways of playing the music, it’d made my hand a bit deformed, I now have, a pair of large hands that weren’t in the right ratio with my body, and, my classmates always joked on how I got a pair of farmer’s hands.

On the year I’d turned nineteen, my understanding of music was taken to a brand new level, because of my older cousin who studied in N.T.U.

My cousin is the only son, from an all-star middle school, to the most famous, all-boys high school, all the way to National Taiwan University, he’d had a smooth ride to the top academically, plus my uncle and aunt are both in high-up positions in their work, he’d had a good life.  But, when he was in his last year of high school, my uncle died by accident, and when he was a sophomore in university, my aunt was diagnosed with cancer, and she’d passed away too, in just no more than two short years, he’d lost both his parents, it was hitting him even harder, made him, who wasn’t at all, that social, even MORE isolated.  At which time, I was just, coming up north for school, I was just one year younger than he was, and, in the urging and begging of my relatives, I’d become, his roommate.

We’d taken up tennis lessons together, learned to ride motorcycles, and, go to church every once in a while, because his professor and his wife knew what had happened in the family, hoped that he could get involved, and become more social again, in order to show gratitude toward his professor, whenever we got the time, we’d gone to the church activities.  Naturally it wasn’t, at all, always smooth going, as his roommate either, for instance, if I’d not placed something in its rightful place, he’d started lecturing me, and, I’d rebutted, by cranking up the music even louder.

Writing the Emotions that Nobody Knows About Using the Notes

After a semester, my cousin went from locking his bedroom doors completely to having his doors half-opened.  One night, I’d carried some midnight snacks home, he, who was somewhat anal asked me, “Do you want to come into my room to hear some music?”, that’s real odd, the room that the cleaning lady couldn’t even enter into, I’d get an invitation?  Without a second word, I’d carried the stewed meats in one hand, drinks in the other, ran into his room, found me a seat, and started, chowing down.

As we’d eaten, and talked, I’d realized, that the radio was playing the same song over and over, the singer had a full voice, and her tone’s quality made the melody feel even lonelier.  “What’s this song called?  Nobody Knows?”  “You’ve heard it?  The singer, Tony Rich………”, my cousin hollered, he couldn’t believe, that his younger girl cousin who’s somewhat a hillbilly, who’s totally careless, can have the same tastes in music as he.  I’d told him, because there’s high repetition in the lyrics, it would be hard, to not remember.  He’d nodded, hinting, that I’d guessed it right, then, he’d continued, “you know what, if you keep your heart in a diary, then, someone will peek into it for sure, but, writing your emotions with music, there’s no way of losing, only you alone will know it.”

Wow!  So, music can manage to continue oneself from the present to the past too, that is something I’d never considered, I’d given him a thumbs up, “You are, an engineer!”  Other than my curiousness, I’d started listening to the lyrics, “I pretend that I’m glad you went away/These four walls closing more every day/And I’m dying inside/And nobody knows it but me.”

Looking at my cousin, sitting with his back towards me, I’d felt this sourness, rushing up from my heart, my dearest cousin, you still had a ton of things left unsaid to auntie, don’t you?

In not knowing, I’d taken after my older cousin’s ways, of recording my life down with the songs: Hsin-Jie Lee’s “Freedom” expressed this false sense of freedom I’d felt when I broke up; Je-Ching Chu’s “Sister’s Drum” roused up this uneasiness that I’d felt, as I was about to graduate, and enter into the workforce, turned me into a backpacker, to Tibet, leading me to believe, that that, was the exit to my own life; CNBLUE’s “Try Again, Smile Again”, helped me through the tortured darkness of the game of money and power at work. And, Huei Jiang’s “Asking the Gods” helped me express the difficulties of choosing between my own parents, and my career…

The candles on the cake is closing in, to forty, and now, I’d played the pianos, not for the sake of conquering anything, and, played the music, not for the purpose of getting the lost memories back again, I’d just, enjoyed the simple notes that were connected.

And so, you can see the maturation process of this woman, of how the purpose of music had changed, as she matured, became of age, and, how music played a vital role for her and someone she loved and cared about, and that, is the power of music, you don’t necessarily need to understand the words, but, just listen to the melodies…