A little before Winter Break, I found out that I had a cyst in my left wrist that pressed on my tendons, causing pain. It was a common diagnosis, but as a violinist, I didn’t know what to do in response to this knowledge. Since I started playing violin eight years ago, I have never let go of my instrument for more than two weeks. Now, I had to refrain from practicing for months until I got and recovered from a light surgery to remove the cyst.
I felt empty for the first couple of weeks. Sometimes, after having a short practice session for my bowing, I would hang on to my violin, plucking the strings out of an instinctive feeling that I needed to practice more. I had to stop my feet from moving to Graves Hall or my brain from telling me to go to the Cochran Chapel to participate in orchestra every Tuesday and Thursday. Music was and still is my passion. I hated feeling like I was not fully immersed in it anymore. At the beginning of January, I often tucked myself in my dorm for the rest of the day, feeling like I was somewhere in the middle where I’d never been before. However, it was when I was in this confused, ambivalent state that I realized something I’m sure would change my life at Andover: finding the balance between what you love and exploring other opportunities is hard, but it surely empowers you to become a more dynamic and perceptive individual.
At a place like Andover, it is silly to be disheartened by the inability to engage in one activity you are accustomed to. After all, part of the reason why most of us came to Andover is to take advantage of the diverse programs provided. The more I spent time alone in my dorm, the more I became aware that I couldn’t waste my time dwelling on the one activity I couldn’t do when there were so many others I hadn’t even touched yet.
Motivated to escape from my comfort zone, I scouted for different avenues to spend my extra time. I went to different clubs or got better engaged in clubs I was already in. Due to this extra time, I finally gained the courage to write for The Phillipian and publish an article for the first time in my life. I went to the first meeting of the philosophy club, where I felt comfortable showing my quirk of being interested in diverse philosophical and ethical experiments. I still remember the thrill of seeing how everyone’s eyes lit up when I mentioned the trolley problem. Although the trolley problem is a well-known philosophical dilemma, their sudden burst of enthusiasm when I mentioned the topic established a sense of connection. I felt like I had found another group of “my people” aside from the friends I always hung out with. As for the clubs I was already in, winter was about the time when our group members had to start preparing parts for mock trial tournaments. We met both in-person and virtually to find and organize evidence that supports our side of the trial. It was amazing to go to see our first trial at Mass School of Law, where I was completely awed by how our witnesses dodged disadvantageous questions and how our attorneys hit the nail on the head for their objections. My days quickly filled with new, memorable experiences I didn’t engage in during the Fall Term.
I don’t intend to say that my life before these changes was less enjoyable, but I do think trying out new opportunities brought more color to my school life. I still love and connect to music, practicing my right hand, taking lessons on how to interpret pieces, and teaching my student how to play violin in the afterschool program called the Andover Lawrence Society. However, I’ve evolved into someone beyond just a music kid. I’m now aware of various opportunities, have connected with people outside the music realm, and have established deeper relationships with them. It’s ironic that the challenge I faced during my initial adjustment to Andover has ultimately made me feel more connected to the community than ever before. So, if you’re going through a similar struggle as me, or if you just feel lost by so many things happening around you, I encourage you to purposefully pause and wander around beyond your comfort zone. There are always plenty of detours that lead up to a destination, even if one of the routes gets blocked. It’s okay to take a longer route. After all, we are still high schoolers who haven’t even lived a quarter of our lives.
The world has so much more to offer than the one area of passion that you are focused on. We think that we can somehow decide what our destination will be for the next 70 years of our lives; however, we must remember that life is a journey, not a marathon. No one can set a course for how you will live. In fact, no one (and this includes you) can even predict it. It is you and your relationships with others that ultimately lead to the milestones in your life, as well as the detours. In each of the detours that you take, you may find unexpected interests that you may want to pursue as a career or have as a hobby. Either way, they will turn into something meaningful and healing to you. Passion is important in a way that propels us, but it’s worth it to take a step back and experiment with different ways to express yourself.
