Ask a sponge

A wonderful, wispy, weaving friend of ours is a lover of music.  She organizes chamber music concerts in our area featuring local students and professors of the best music schools in the area.  These are world class performances that we get to enjoy intimately, in fabulous homes with home-cooked goodies afterwards.  We also get to mingle with the performers, enthusiastic young people who are devoted to their art.

It’s fun talking with them, but at the same time there is the ever-present shadow of their fate hanging above them.  For their chosen field is intensely competitive.  To be sure, any of them could end up in the orchestra of a small city, but to become a world-class musician is to meet competition so lofty that most of us can’t even imagine.  That wonderfully happy person I’m talking with today is very likely going to have a crushed future.  They will not end up in the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, or going on a world operatic tour.  They will probably end up working as a music teacher by day, and in a small city’s orchestra on the weekend.

Part of me wants to hug them and wish them well.  Another part wishes that our world was a safer place that could hug all of them.  Why can’t our society be one that guarantees all the pretty good musicians a spot in a decent orchestra?  All the orchestras would be more average, but can the average concert-goer tell the difference?  I don’t think I could.  Why do we have to put hundreds of talented young artists through such hell, just so one might rise to the world stage and fame?

Here’s where our sponge comes in.  All life is an answer to a question; you only have to know how to ask the question and where to look.  The sponge is an animal that plays it safe.  It doesn’t go out of its way to explore the world, it lets the world take its babies wherever the current carries it.  It doesn’t fight to get better, it doesn’t work to learn, and it doesn’t go in for a lot of experimentation.  The sponge, every single one of them, is happy simply sitting on the bottom of the ocean.

Is this a bad thing?  Of course not.  Does it help the sponge survive?  It must, because they’ve been around a whole lot longer than people.  But does it allow the sponge to grow and thrive and push the boundaries of its existence?  And here the answer is no.

Those young people who dream of making a dent in the world must be allowed to try to the best of their ability.  Almost all of them will crash and burn, but it is their choice.  And in that attempt, they are also helping to carry the rest of humanity with them.  It is your choice to dream, to hope, to dare, and to fail.  Watching them fail is not tragic.  Taking away their chance to fail, that is the tragedy.

You, me, we, humanity, needs to grow.

Prepare to be squeezed!

 

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