A few weeks ago, I took a short lunch break from work to play the piano in the rare afternoon sun. My heart timidly swelled at the prospect of a sunny springtime in Scotland that could easily be taken away by the not-so-unprecedented snow in April. But I decided, consciously, to enjoy what I could, then and there: the sun and the music, no matter how temporary.
No one and nothing knows me like the piano. Not my parents, not my sister, not my partner, not even my dog. My hands rest comfortably on the keys, knowing exactly where to go. The relationship I have with piano is a longstanding one; it is a craft to which I devote a lot of my time and effort. As long-term relationships of any kind that require time and effort often do, the relationship I have with the piano helps me reflect on myself. It is through the piano, then, that I think about what kind of person I have become.
Having been in a relationship with the piano for two and a half decades, I must say that I didn’t always enjoy playing the piano. I started at a very young age and with smaller-than-average hands, and it was always just uncomfortable, bordering on painful. But the piano taught me how to sit with and through discomfort, to stick with things until they can bloom. I have come to think of this ability to withstand the discomfort of my imperfections and to persevere through the discomfort in order to improve as ‘maturity’.
Playing in ensembles as well as performing solo, I have consistently been challenged with new music that always starts off feeling uncomfortable, but I know and trust will become a part of my muscle memory if I kept practicing. I still have music that I struggle with, find difficult to make sense of, want to give up on. But I make it a point to keep practicing.
As I find myself in a deeply unfortunate position of having to find a new job once again, I try to remind myself of this every day. I just need to keep going, note by note, bar by bar, phrase by phrase, until my body quite literally incorporates the music in its muscles, tendons, nerves. In hiring processes (in my experience), these things — what makes a person who they are — are rarely discussed or prioritised, as the focus tends to be on metrics and achievements.
Perhaps it is naive of me to want to be treated like a person rather than a ‘human resource’ in the contemporary world of work. But ultimately, the reality is that employers are hiring a person, whether they see them as one or not, rather than a set of numbers and awards. I just wish to be treated like a whole person that I am, someone who isn’t just a set of extractable skills, but whose perspectives — and not just measurable skills — are respected and valued.