Perception of choice

I don’t remember at what age I started playing piano. Maybe I was 5 or 6. In my memory, my parents forced me to learn. In theirs, they gave me an opportunity, one that they were not fortunate enough to have in their youth.

I had to practice piano every evening. My father would sit by my side and religiously monitor all of my practice. I had to practice every song five times, and I usually had three to five songs each week. It was awful. I cried. I screamed. I threw temper tantrums. I hated it. The drawn out practice sessions always lasted longer than necessary due to all of my stalling tactics.

Then one day when I was around 10 a peculiar thing happened. I was thrashing about as usual, protesting and bitterly complaining during a practice session.

“I don’t want to practice. I want to quit.” I yelled as I typically did during practice.

My words weren’t new to my dad, but this time, he said, “Okay.” And just like that my parents let me quit piano.

I was in disbelief. Really? Just like that? I could quit?

And so I did. For a few months afterwards, not a single note was heard throughout the house, and our small wooden instrument collected dust.

For awhile, I felt relieved. A great burden had been lifted from my shoulders. But it didn’t take long before I began to miss the music. At first I just thought about playing, but didn’t. I wasn’t ready to admit that my parents were right. Then after a few more weeks of contemplation, I stole a few minutes to sheepishly play some notes. The first few bars of Fur Elise hesitantly escaped from my fingers. I hoped my parents didn’t notice. But soon enough, I asked them if I could resume lessons.

Once I owned up to the fact that learning piano was my own choice and that I wasn’t forced into it, the entire experience was dramatically different. When other children complained about their parents forcing them to learn, I replied that mine allowed me to quit. I played piano because I wanted to. And since I had made that choice for myself, it really wasn’t so awful. In fact, I loved it.

My reality was the same – I still practiced every evening. Only my perception had changed. And that made all the difference.

To this day, I still play piano. Not everyday, but almost.

Have you ever felt that you were forced to do something? Responsibilities at work or at home? Maybe the task wouldn’t be so insufferable if you viewed yourself as choosing the task instead of viewing yourself as a slave to it. Just a small shift in your perception could change everything.