October 23, 2004 at 11:33 AM

I've put off starting a blog for so long. It seems as though if I were to write for all the world to see, it should be something worthwhile and meaningful. Yet here I am, at 3 am, making the attempt I've thought through so many times, about starting my very own weblog, with absolutely nothing important to say. I guess, I figured it would never happen if I waited until divine inspiration gave me profound words of wisdom to impart on the masses. I have no musical prowess, no degree or authority, no resume. I am simply me, Emily Grossman, who used to be Emily Steele, an aspiring young violinist, who drifted off course, wandered nomadically, got married and finally settled like a storm-weathered bird in a no-name town in Alaska, of all places. Yet it was here in the frozen wasteland that I discovered my roots again and dusted off something I thought I had lost for good in the rites of college study: a dream of music.

I guess I have one important thing to say this evening after all. I had the opportunity to speak with a high school cellist who was in the area for the weekend. In our brief dialogue, I vicariously relived my own high school transition into college and thought about the decisions she soon would be making.

Teenagers ask the wrong questions when pursuing an educational degree. They think about its usefulness or what would be most responsible of them down the road. Don't you know, the work will always find you, and responsibility has many forms. More importantly, ask what it is you really like. Seek to find a way to do what it is you like, and sacrifice anything you can to live it.

For my husband, he says it's retirement. So, he tries to stay as retired as he can and goes hunting and fishing while he's young and can still keep up with his dog. And to pay the bills, he cooks good food.

Me, well what did I do? I bought into an idea that I should only get a degree in music if I planned on using it, which, to me, meant being a professional musician, practicing eight hours a day, and starving as I tried to become famous. This did not sound appealing to a nineteen-year-old with lots of venues to explore. Instead, I got a degree in education which eventually I vowed never to use, went into the "real world", and spent five years trying to "find myself". As it turns out, I'd left myself back there with my buried dreams.

Who says you can't be a musician, that selling your artwork is a pipe dream, that these are not careers and that you need a 9-5 job in order to be responsible? I spent 5 years being depressed and angry and unfulfilled because I couldn't find a way to fit into that stereotype. So when I finally settled into a lifestyle I liked and moved into an actual house with running water, the only piece of furniture I bought was a piano. This was the best thing I could have done, because it reconnected me with my roots.

Young people, I ask you, how can you devote your childhood to music, spend your hours dreaming on your instrument instead of going to parties or football games, striving and accomplishing, and then leave that part of you behind as you enter college? If you are a helpless slave to this passion, don't weigh the practicality of your options as though you know what the future holds. Do what it is that you want to be doing right now. Play music. Take some classes. Even get that music degree. Don't worry about if it's useful or not. I have this perfectly useful education degree now, and I could care less. It doesn't do a thing for me. I teach lessons, perform, and sell artwork for a living. And no, I'm not starving. I don't have much, but I'm happy now, doing what I was created to do.

Good night, and sweet dreams.

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October 23, 2004 at 11:33 AM

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