Pears

I'd classify myself as your average sunny-side-up kind of gal, but with some current life circumstances, I find I'm having to be more intentional in my perspective.  Below is a short anecdote that I used with my students on the last day of school and I was reminded it of it recently after reading a short response on Humans of New York about a sweet woman who felt tired with life's troubles in her older age and wondered what the point was anymore.  Then, later that day she was struck by something that rejuvenated her: she bit into the "most delicious pear!"

And that was it.  That was enough.

I want to be the kind of person who could be so fulfilled by something so simple!  Practicing this type of gratitude is easy enough, I believe.  It keeps me feeling calmer and at the end of the day I reflect that it was a "good day" on a day that was actually really very average.  

We lived in such a hurried world, and I'm worried that this next generation is missing something even bigger, with all the technology and comparing and feeling of FOMO.  Do they know how lucky they are to even be alive?  Do any of us?  So I encouraged my students to be of the mindset to seek out beauty and allow themselves to be in awe of the world they live in, and we read this together on the last day of school as inspiration.  It was a wonderful discussion and reminder for myself too.  Enjoy.

"A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?"

{Years ago I read this on Huffington Post but do not know the original author.}

Petoskey State Park, July 2014