That’s a wrap
I was talking to my son last week about the trombone. He, who has played the trombone for the past 10 years and has a full-ride scholarship in trombone performance, is considering quitting.
The conversation was a difficult one. He loves playing so much and yet he has many other interests as well. As we talked, he was getting more and more agitated. In his frustration, he said, “If I quit now, what was it all for? I have wasted the last ten years of my life! For nothing!”
His words caught my attention. I haven’t been able to think of much else for the past week.
Oh, how wrong he is.
Some things end. They stop. They don’t last forever. We like to pretend that everything worthwhile will go on infinitely, but it isn’t true. And just because things have an ending doesn’t mean they were a waste of time.
Thinking this way is problematic.
One problem is that we believe what we do is who we are. This is a very narrow and limiting way to view ourselves. If this is how my son sees himself, as only a trombonist, then quitting will be devastating. Without his trombone…he is nothing.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
We are not one-dimensional beings. We have many interests and pursuits, and we can find more throughout our lives. I grew up dancing. Many of my hours after school were spent in ballet, clogging, and gymnastics. I performed and competed and practiced. This may sound shocking—but I don’t do it anymore. 😂 When I graduated from college, my dancing days ended. Well, I occasionally danced or choreographed little numbers for church activities…and I still move it and groove it in my kitchen or in my car, but the official performances came to a close. I was a dancer, but it wasn’t the only thing I was.
An even bigger problem is thinking that your pursuits were a waste of time. Thinking like this creates feelings of resentment and anger. In this state, you have closed the window that shows you all the things you gained in the process. Had I wasted my entire life in dance? I wasn’t dancing professionally, and I never opened my own dance studio. I guess I could think that way, but why would I want to?
Instead, I choose to feel grateful for the time I spent learning and growing. Amazingly, gratitude not only opens the window but the floodgates, and it’s impossible to miss all the wonderful byproducts. How can it be a waste when we gain lifelong friendships, respect for our teachers, an appreciation for dance (or music, sports, robotics, or whatever), treasured memories, an ethic of working hard, grit to keep pushing through each failure, knowledge, and confidence?
We are more than what we do.
Our time dedicated to the things we love is never wasted, even when those things end.
My son hasn’t made a decision, and that’s ok. I hope whatever he decides to do, he’ll realize that life is full of endings—but those endings are followed closely by new beginnings.
That’s a beautiful thing.
