When we’re born, we are strung like a piano. Our family does the tuning, whether well or badly. Our strings sound with the resonances of circumstance, of longings and catastrophes, love affairs, learning, and yearning. We warble or clang and clash, life’s fingers wild on the keys. We ring whole with harmony; we drown with dissonance. These strings of where we come from do this-- resonate reflexively without control-- until we discover the felt hammers for ourselves, bringing them down creating our own sound, dampening it with the pedals of self-awareness and self-restraint, muffling or ending unwanted, unconscious vibrations, stabilizing the instrument of who we are. With time, we learn to influence how we are played by life: foot on or off the pedal, hands on or off the keys. Our bodies and brains may be inherited, a family heirloom marked by water stains with ancient strings we’ll never be rid of. But we can learn how to tune, to play songs not heard until now, songs uniquely, freshly us—with melodies and accompaniment we compose ourselves. If you would like to contribute to the reflection and share with other readers, please press on the word "comments" below.
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