What Learning the Violin Has Taught Me About Life

When I was nine years old, my school offered the opportunity to learn an instrument. We were told that we could become a part of our school’s orchestra.

Wow.

I was thrilled at the idea, although I’m not sure why. My parents loved music, but neither was a musician. Still, I happily chose to play the viola, and joined the small group of music nerds in elementary school.

I fell head over heels in love with the sound of that viola. I fell in love with the deep purple velvet that lined it’s case, and with the smell of the resin that I rubbed onto my bow.

As I played the viola, I learned about the joy of harmony and was always thrilled to be the lower voice to that of the violin. To this day, I sing alto every chance I get.

My fourth-grade year was largely shaped by my love of my Thursday morning orchestra rehearsals and my Tuesday after lunch strings lesson. Sitting here right now, at the age of 63, I can still remember how I’d wish my Tuesday lunchtime over so that I could step onto the stage in our “cafetorium”, where the dusty curtain would be closed and the small group of violin, viola, and cello players would practice in the musty warmth.

Playing my instrument, in a crowd of other young musicians, was magic to me. It lifted me out of…