“You have short, stubby fingers. You won’t be a good piano player.”
These are the words that tripped off the lips of my aunt one Sunday afternoon when I explained to her that I planned on taking piano lessons.
I was just seven years old, but she had already assigned me failure on my first project.
Not being the kind to quietly slip into the corner to cry and lick my wounds, I told her that what she said to me was stupid, and therefore ended up with a couple of smacks on my butt and time in my room.
But today, I can play piano.
Human beings feel they perform a service by assigning destiny, precautions or abilities to one another, therefore simplifying the path leading to the next adventure.
With all due respect and great warmness in my heart, I would like you to leave me the hell alone.
I am not even slightly curious about what you think I should do or what assignments I should take on based on my current situation or assumed aptitude.
For after all, I am a better person when I am challenged instead of just slipping off the rock and falling to the ground in a predictable heap.
If it is obvious to you that I should obviously do something, then it must be obvious to me that I obviously shouldn’t. Otherwise I will find myself living a life like I have been given a paint-by-number set and have no choice in determining my colors.
Old women and old men say old things, offering old, outdated possibilities.
If you want to stay young, the best way to achieve this status is to never try to be someone else’s agent for their talent.
“Let every man prove his own work, that he has rejoicing in himself alone and not another.”
Everything that was ever “assigned” to me was not only fictitious, but if I had pursued it, would have left me vacant of passion.
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix