It’s January 10th, 2007: The start of my music career. The day it all began. Uncertain, I lay my hand down on the smooth, cool page of my brand-new, pristine, marble composition book. All is silent. I swear I can hear my heart beating. With a swipe of a pointed pencil, I trace the outline of my hands and label my fingers: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 precisely as my teacher instructed. Little did I know, I would be doing this many more times as my hands grew. As I grew. As I found out who I was. It was such an unusual routine to do yet it symbolized my love of music and achievement. Because although I didn't know it at the time, I would continue to place my curved fingers on the cold hard keys of the piano over and over. My fingernails, which were always too long, would continue to irritably slip over and over. I would continue to realize—over and over—that playing the piano wasn't just a part of my life, it was a part of me.

Of course when I first began playing what is now my favorite musical instrument, it wasn't that easy. After all, nothing ever is. I will admit that. You could almost say piano was unmanageable for me at first, but not quite. I was playing on a 70-year-old piano given to me from relatives. The drab, shabby instrument looked like it had been attacked by a tiger—it was remarkable enough that it still played well. Even so, I still had to bear the frustration of beginning. I had to learn all the names of the nearly identical keys, how to read perplexing notes and rhythms on the staff, and how to actually execute what must be done. It was like wandering through a maze, although you didn't know where you were supposed to arrive. For what seemed like years, I had to tolerate annoying sing-song music just because I wasn't ready to attempt anything else. And I really wasn't. I was only in first grade. Yet I still would stop and wonder: Is this something I could be good at? How long will it take?

Overtime though, the scales, chords, and arpeggios became easier. After spending hours during the week practicing for lessons I sometimes dreaded, my dynamics, accents, and phrasing advanced too. Although my brain often felt no less than fried, it was worth it. What I would come to wholeheartedly love was worth it. At the recitals we performed at a few times a year, other students could hear my improvement and I could hear theirs. I remember sitting on the cushioned chairs in that small, cozy room of my piano teacher’s home with my stomach lurching like I was about to go skydiving. Even though my hands would start to sweat, my face would feel hot, and all I wanted to do was get my performance over with, I would listen to all the kids who played, attentively keeping track of the really good ones (all of course, better than me). But now, nearly all of them have quit and I am the older and experienced one among a new wave of younger pupils. It was a status I had earned with much effort and hard work. I was dedicated. I had never left. I had reserved the majority of my free time for piano when I could have easily done other activities.

However, at the point where I am now in my life, I only recently realized how much playing the piano actually meant to me. It is something I do when life is tough and unfair…which is actually quite often. Yet having the satisfaction of finishing a delightful sonata, tarantella, or rondo can really open my eyes to look past the flaws and disappointments of my life. It reminds me, life isn't all that bad. In those pure moments of intense practice and pleasure I can abandon my worries, stress, and anxiety and just burn them away until they no longer exist. That argument I had with a friend, the science project I never did, the algebra problems I never understood…all gone. All lost in the wind like a scrap of paper. Truly, there is something about your fingers flying on keys that makes you feel simultaneously disciplined, powerful, and carefree. It’s an escape in which you can ignore every disturbance and anguish-filled problem. It’s comforting. It’s wonderful.

Additionally, I didn't even know it but piano has led me to meet several people with similar interests. After all these years, I've actually gotten a bit friendly with some of my teacher’s other pupils. Once, when I was crunching on cookies and making smalls crafts following a recital, a high school-boy approached me and asked me what high school I’d be going to. After confirming it would be the same one he attended, he told me he was looking forward to seeing me there next year. Of course I couldn't help but smile. It’s that shared love of music bringing us together even though we barely knew each other. But either way, the small gesture really turned my day around. Furthermore, music brought me someone else who plays piano and is now one of my closest friends. Our bond has really made us closer than I ever imagined and now we are currently composing a duet compilation of our favorite songs. Indeed, piano is often a solitary experience, but it can also have social benefits.

Besides that though, piano has been very rewarding. I've had many opportunities to try something new. Not everyone can say they've played a two-leveled harpsichord. Its strong, string-like acoustics and wooden keys are unique in such an indescribable way. But more importantly, piano has allowed me to find something that I think everyone pursues. Something that isn't as easy as glancing in a glinting mirror. Something that can’t always be answered. Something that takes ages to discover...

Just this past year of my music career was a big push. Everything I had ever learned had begun to click into place. And then it happened. Except the situation differed from the first time I got a piano. This time it was my choice when I chose a new piano on which I would hope to play for nearly the rest of my life. It was a brand new Steinway-engineered piano. It had the most gorgeous black lacquer that actually reflected the keys in its glossy coating. Its alluring song would resonate with every note. And while staring and marveling over its beauty, I realized I knew who I was. And that is the very best reward. Especially in the teenage years you often feel alone, left out, and self-conscious. You’re always trying to find out who you are. But finding yourself is tough. It’s rough. It’s disconcerting. Yet on that day it had occurred to me, if you look hard enough, you may just find yourself in the things you love. I know I did.

Overall, the music-playing journey never ends. It doesn't matter how good my sight-reading is or how many different pieces I've played because it will never be utmost perfection. There will always be better pianists. But that's okay. After eight years, I know I’m getting a little closer day by day.

Piano a life-long commitment yet at the same time I don’t think music will ever become tiresome for me. Music is just one of those things that connect people. It can convey emotions and ideas that words can’t. When I hear or play something on piano, I can feel the emotion the composer put into it and it often feels like it’s pouring into my soul. As Berthold Auerbach once said, “Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” After all the experience I've had so far, I’m beginning to think this is truer than ever. Music brings excitement and anticipation to many situations whether it’s parties, recitals, or even working on a homework project. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy the piano so genuinely. It’s full of ambition, achievement, and dedication…It provides escape, opportunity, and reward…It’s what keeps me going in life. If piano wasn't truly a part of me, I don’t know what would be.