In my house, there is no escaping the music. It rings from every corner. The rock of Bon Jovi or the tender voice of Frank Sinatra can be heard drifting through the hallways. A love of music runs deep in my blood. It influences my moods and my actions. Music inspires me.
I believe in inspiration. Gandhi was inspired to transform India. Mother Teresa was inspired to help the homeless. Martin Luther King Junior was inspired to end segregation. A local Girl Scout troop was inspired to serve at a soup kitchen. And I was inspired to play music. I believe how people act upon their inspiration is all that matters. Even an average person can be somebody if they have the willingness to follow their dreams.
I found inspiration at a young age. My mother signed me up for the preschool church choir when I was three, and at the time I went because she made me. As I grew older, I found that I loved to sing; I loved music. The sound of voices reverberating in a harmony of sopranos, altos, tenors, and basses was extraordinary. The musicians who could orchestrate flowing melodies and perform tear-jerking compositions carried the status of magicians. They could coax all kinds of music from seemingly insignificant pieces of plastic and brass. I decided it was my calling, my inspiration, to be involved with music somehow, someway.
At first, it was just the choir; then the piano came. One day, I walked into the living room, and there it was, keys gleaming temptingly. My steps toward it were cautious, as if I could rob it of its power. After plunking out a few notes, excitement started bubbling. My fingers danced, playing the obnoxious nonsense that a child finds amusing. My mother found me a teacher, and I practiced and practiced but grew bored.
Each time I lacked in inspiration, though, some musical piece would rekindle my fire. I remember sitting in the audience of my church’s Christmas concert bored to tears when they belted out the first “Hallelujahs!” of Handel’s “Messiah.” I was stunned, enthralled, mesmerized. Those power chords hit me loud and strong. My piano and my voice became my best friends again.
The cycle continued; if I lacked drive, I found more inspiration. A whole life is guided by that moment of inspiration. All one focuses on is that goal, that dream. With my music, I know this to be true. I’ve expanded my musical interests to include singing in an ensemble and playing clarinet in marching band. I’ve had the chance to sing the “Star Spangled Banner” at a baseball game and perform on a cruise ship. My choir is planning to go to Europe, and the band will be marching in the Rose Bowl parade. I believe in persistence and in following your heart. I believe in making a difference. And I believe it all starts with inspiration.
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