03/17/25

Live With An Open Heart, Especially When It Hurts

At the conclusion of one of the many piano recitals I've put on throughout the years (your guess is as good as mine as to what the exact number of these are), I was approached by the mother of a brother-sister duo under my tutelage:

"Warren, meet your future student!"

It was my first time meeting her adorable, pillow-cheeked daughter of 1 year.

Life was good. I let the feeling of gratitude wash over me like a waterfall as I watched her pudgy little fingers splay up and down the keys, her mother holding her firmly in place on the piano bench.

...

I started teaching her kids during the pandemic, I believe it was a full digital year before we even met in person. But once she became pregnant with the aforementioned third child, she requested a "break."

Mind you, I've heard this word many times in my career. 99% of the time it's a code for indirectly stopping lessons for whatever private reasons are none of my business. It was a pleasant surprise when she revealed herself as the 1%, contacting me after some time had passed in order to resume.

So it came as an utter shock when I received the following email from her a few days after she spoke those glowing words to me:

It's not like these things never happen, I've been in situations where no indication was given that piano lessons were to be abruptly and permanently postponed. To my shame I've also been the facilitator of such situations.

But I felt especially wronged this time, considering the fact she gave every indication that the future would be long and bright. I felt like a big-time sucker, a turkey on the eve of Thanksgiving. Like why bother to butter someone up like this when you know you're going to soon lop off his head?

Furthermore, why even bother putting yourself out there? Why make yourself vulnerable if this is how you're eventually treated in the end?

As is often the case, I saw things differently after a full night's sleep which was preceded by a privately executed profanity-laced diatribe.

Truth is, she was one of those rare, supportive parents who would frequently check in to see how her kids were doing. She not only asked me for feedback but went a step further and actually implemented it (I've seen this happen less than the total amount of fingers on a single hand).

So when she made the decision to stop for the second and final time, I believe it was a difficult one for her. The proof is in the action, people will behave in uncharacteristic ways when they're forced to do something that they both have no control over and are very uncomfortable with.

I can only surmise that finances are what led to the termination of our professional relationship. I could be bitter about it, after all even if a person says they can't afford something there are plenty of other so-called things they probably can't afford but somehow find a way to pay for.

Instead, I choose to be thankful.

Fact is, she took a chance on me when she didn't need to. During our interim not only did she suddenly have three mouths to feed but my rates had increased by a significant percentage. Instead of saying no, she and her husband redid their budget to account for this unexpected additional expense.

Wallowing in self-pity would have erased all the good that happened during this time and negated all the lessons I learned from this experience. Truly, I treasure the memories we made together and wish them nothing but the best.

Lastly, credit needs to be given where it is due. I would never have managed to get through this experience unscathed without reading one of the most important books of my life, The Way of The Superior Man. As the author David Deida says:

Live With An Open Heart, Especially When It Hurts

At the conclusion of one of the many piano recitals I've put on throughout the years (your guess is as good as mine as to what the exact number of these are), I was approached by the mother of a brother-sister duo under my tutelage:

"Warren, meet your future student!"

It was my first time meeting her adorable, pillow-cheeked daughter of 1 year.

Life was good. I let the feeling of gratitude wash over me like a waterfall as I watched her pudgy little fingers splay up and down the keys, her mother holding her firmly in place on the piano bench.

I started teaching her kids during the pandemic, I believe it was a full digital year before we even met in person. But once she became pregnant with the aforementioned third child, she requested a "break."

Mind you, I've heard this word many times in my career. 99% of the time it's a code for indirectly stopping lessons for whatever private reasons are none of my business. It was a pleasant surprise when she revealed herself as the 1%, contacting me after some time had passed in order to resume.

So it came as an utter shock when I received the following email from her a few days after she spoke those glowing words to me:

It's not like these things never happen, I've been in situations where no indication was given that piano lessons were to be abruptly and permanently postponed. To my shame I've also been the facilitator of such situations.

But I felt especially wronged this time, considering the fact she gave every indication that the future would be long and bright. I felt like a big-time sucker, a turkey on the eve of Thanksgiving. Like why bother to butter someone up like this when you know you're going to soon lop off his head?

Furthermore, why even bother putting yourself out there? Why make yourself vulnerable if this is how you're eventually treated in the end?

As is often the case, I saw things differently after a full night's sleep which was preceded by a privately executed profanity-laced diatribe.

Truth is, she was one of those rare, supportive parents who would frequently check in to see how her kids were doing. She not only asked me for feedback but went a step further and actually implemented it (I've seen this happen less than the total amount of fingers on a single hand).

So when she made the decision to stop for the second and final time, I believe it was a difficult one for her. The proof is in the action, people will behave in uncharacteristic ways when they're forced to do something that they both have no control over and are very uncomfortable with.

I can only surmise that finances are what led to the termination of our professional relationship. I could be bitter about it, after all even if a person says they can't afford something there are plenty of other so-called things they probably can't afford but somehow find a way to pay for.

Instead, I choose to be thankful.

Fact is, she took a chance on me when she didn't need to. During our interim not only did she suddenly have three mouths to feed but my rates had increased by a significant percentage. Instead of saying no, she and her husband redid their budget to account for this unexpected additional expense.

Wallowing in self-pity would have erased all the good that happened during this time and negated all the lessons I learned from this experience. Truly, I treasure the memories we made together and wish them nothing but the best.

Lastly, credit needs to be given where it is due. I would never have managed to get through this experience unscathed without reading one of the most important books of my life, The Way of The Superior Man. As the author David Deida says:

"Live with an open heart, even if it hurts."

Cheers.

Live With An Open Heart, Especially When It Hurts

At the conclusion of one of the many piano recitals I've put on throughout the years (your guess is as good as mine as to what the exact number of these are), I was approached by the mother of a brother-sister duo under my tutelage:

"Warren, meet your future student!"

It was my first time meeting her adorable, pillow-cheeked daughter of 1 year.

Life was good. I let the feeling of gratitude wash over me like a waterfall as I watched her pudgy little fingers splay up and down the keys, her mother holding her firmly in place on the piano bench.

I started teaching her kids during the pandemic, I believe it was a full digital year before we even met in person. But once she became pregnant with the aforementioned third child, she requested a "break."

Mind you, I've heard this word many times in my career. 99% of the time it's a code for indirectly stopping lessons for whatever private reasons are none of my business. It was a pleasant surprise when she revealed herself as the 1%, contacting me after some time had passed in order to resume.

So it came as an utter shock when I received the following email from her a few days after she spoke those glowing words to me:

It's not like these things never happen, I've been in situations where no indication was given that piano lessons were to be abruptly and permanently postponed. To my shame I've also been the facilitator of such situations.

But I felt especially wronged this time, considering the fact she gave every indication that the future would be long and bright. I felt like a big-time sucker, a turkey on the eve of Thanksgiving. Like why bother to butter someone up like this when you know you're going to soon lop off his head?

Furthermore, why even bother putting yourself out there? Why make yourself vulnerable if this is how you're eventually treated in the end?

As is often the case, I saw things differently after a full night's sleep which was preceded by a privately executed profanity-laced diatribe.

Truth is, she was one of those rare, supportive parents who would frequently check in to see how her kids were doing. She not only asked me for feedback but went a step further and actually implemented it (I've seen this happen less than the total amount of fingers on a single hand).

So when she made the decision to stop for the second and final time, I believe it was a difficult one for her. The proof is in the action, people will behave in uncharacteristic ways when they're forced to do something that they both have no control over and are very uncomfortable with.

I can only surmise that finances are what led to the termination of our professional relationship. I could be bitter about it, after all even if a person says they can't afford something there are plenty of other so-called things they probably can't afford but somehow find a way to pay for.

Instead, I choose to be thankful.

Fact is, she took a chance on me when she didn't need to. During our interim not only did she suddenly have three mouths to feed but my rates had increased by a significant percentage. Instead of saying no, she and her husband redid their budget to account for this unexpected additional expense.

Wallowing in self-pity would have erased all the good that happened during this time and negated all the lessons I learned from this experience. Truly, I treasure the memories we made together and wish them nothing but the best.

Lastly, credit needs to be given where it is due. I would never have managed to get through this experience unscathed without reading one of the most important books of my life, The Way of The Superior Man. As the author David Deida says:

"Live with an open heart, even if it hurts."

Cheers.

Nothing New Under The Sun

Passion Is A Lie (Sort Of)