we can't stay sad for too long

I stood there in the small IT switch room, holding my trumpet, heaving a huge sigh. There I was, inside a confined space which could also be categorized as a store room. I decided to practice my trumpet there, since I couldn’t stand travelling so far to the National Theatre every day during the rainy season, just to find a place for me to practice.

I felt like a peasant, sad to think how low I have to bend myself just to practice for my grade five. Once a while, the guards would come by, curious and suspicious.

The word determination could easily be replaced with the word desperation.
Inside my upset, I still practiced and I did get to improve myself during that one hour after office practice.

Things currently are not easy to me. I hesitated to post my sad story in my own blog, but then again, this is my zone to write and express, so maybe this time I am doing it.

The other day I said many thanks to our IT consultant for giving me a treat of Secret Recipe, for I haven’t tried fine food for two months so far. I explained to him, money goes out as soon as it comes into the bank account.

A few hundred goes to the gym, a few hundred goes to my bike installment, fifty bucks go to maintenance, another few hundred goes to the phone bill, electricity, water and broadband. Two hundred would go to my study loan repayment, and another few hundred would go to my trumpet lessons.

My consultant told me- all of the above can make me afford to pay for a car! He was wondering why should I put too much priority in chasing my dreams? Dreams, he said, should be put aside so that I can live.

That night, dear dear Z arrived late for dinner and I was starving, and my mood also went down. I became lifeless.

I kept quiet for a few hours, and then I said what I feel.

I am not happy.
After my life being transformed, and I’ve got a good job, a dream and plan for my trumpet playing, and all the things that I’ve got, I am not happy.
I’ve reached to another level of my life, but I am not happy.
I’ve lost my friends, I became someone else.

If only I could just be like last time, even though I was a jobless graduate with bad results, I was happy.

I am so longing to be in that comfort zone, not going anywhere, but I was happy.

After all, why should I reach for my dreams? Dreams can be put aside. They are not important. I want my past life back.

The kindest thing that dear dear Z did was to let me in that space of frustration and hopelessness.

In the layman’s term, I just want to be sad with all the shit in front of me, not to spray perfume on it because it’s still shit, neither do I want to remove that shit away from me.

I just wanted to feel upset about all that shit, without doing anything about it.

Tomorrow, just be yourself, dear dear Z said. You don’t have to do anything to fix it.

So next day came.

That evening, I went for the next lesson with my trumpet tutor. Nothing came out from my trumpet sound good. I was trembling, even before my tutor said anything. It felt as if all my hard practice went off to waste.

It is so hard to teach you nowadays. Last time, you absorbed everything like a sponge. Now, there’s something bothering you. Maybe you were thinking of your job or something else. You need to look into this.

That’s what my tutor told me.

I pondered a while.

Then I realized-

I have been too hard to myself.
Playing the trumpet is supposed to be my joy.
Now all the things that I do is based on “I have to make it work” instead of
“I like doing this”.

I had fear everytime I meet my tutor, because I have to make it work.
And that fear became worse, to the point that whenever I meet him- I’ll say I am going to die.

My perception slowly changed.

Life, with whatever I have right now in my wallet and bank account, is just how it is. I’ve already got whatever I need to be in this level of life I have at the moment.

A sturdy vehicle. Sufficient food although not with luxury. Basic means of communication with Streamyx and Maxis.

Of course it is still very disappointing that I couldn’t travel anymore or get a new toy or a new piece of nice t shirt, but hey, life is not that bad after all.

Yes, I've lost a few precious friends, but that was my mistake for abusing what I've learned in the seminars that I've joined. Blaming the seminar itself is as silly as blaming the knife which is given to you when actually you were hurting yourself with it. It's already done, move to the future.

Me, being in the small IT room to practice, is me, being lucky. I didn’t have to go too far to find a practice hall, neither do I have to pay so much to practice in a studio. The room was clean and perfect for me.

I’ve pasted a notice in front of the door, and guards don’t check me anymore.

And I do not want to be terrified by my tutor anymore. I want to see him with my full respect, and I want to make him proud.

I want to play beautifully, with joy, with a good posture and breath, and whenever I play with excellence, my tutor would say with pride-

“That is my student.”