Friday, May 20, 2016
Reward hr569
My parents didn’t get married for love. Their marriage was part of a
deal to inherit the family’s fortune and they took it for money. Another
part of the deal was to carry on the family and they had me as a
successor. It had gone according to their plan until I decided to do
what I wanted for my life and left home. Since then, they attempted
every evil way to pull me back in the family. They tried all possible
means to make me give up my carrier as a musician. They said I had no
talent, I was a failure, and how bad I was as a human being, over and
over at every opportunity. They conned me once big time. Out of the blue
they offered money to set up my own record label, and after I rented an
office and hired the staff, they suddenly withdrew their money, crushed
my label and bankrupted me. I defied any kind of attack, threat,
temptation and begging from them because I was determined to be a
musician. When they realized I wouldn’t succeed the family, they told me
not to even visit them because they didn’t want to see me any more. On
their repeated requests not to come see them in their house, I
understood they didn’t need their child who wasn’t a successor. From
that experience, I have a doubt about a concept of unconditional love. I
spent about 10 years to complete my last song. The new song I’ve been
currently working on hasn’t been completed yet after four years. It was
not because I was loitering over my work on purpose. Making music is the
only thing I do seriously without compromise. I don’t want to let time
interfere with my music. It’s completed when I’m satisfactorily
convinced it’s finished. And I dream of my future in which my song will
be such a big hit that it will make me a celebrity and take me to
Monaco. The other day, I noticed an unfavorable fact. While I dedicate
my life for my songs that I spend all my effort, time and passion on, I
unconsciously expect reward from them. Although I already have so much
fun and feel indescribable happiness during work, I believe that my
songs should bring me money and fame someday. That sounds awfully like
my parents’ attitude toward me. They raised me while they expected
reward when I grew up. Do I also nurture my songs for reward when they
are completed? If so, I will end up exploding my anger if my songs don’t
reward me with money and fame. Am I the same as my parents after all or
can I give unconditional love to my songs? I get enough reward in the
process of completing songs. My reward is done when songs are done. From
then on, all I should care is to make my songs happy, which means to
support them all my life by doing whatever I possibly can to make them
be heard by a lot of people. Can I love my songs that way and be
satisfied with my life until the day I die? I must try. Because even if I
don’t have any money or fame at all, I think I’ve already received
reward called life with freedom and happiness…
Saturday, May 7, 2016
The Decision hr568
We all face decisions every day, big or small. It may be as trifling as
what to eat for lunch, but sometimes it is as important as what decides a
course of our life. And the big one often comes abruptly like a
surprise attack when we least expect it, unguarded. I faced the first
crucial decision unexpectedly on my 20th birthday. In Japan, 20 years of
age is regarded as the coming-of-age and there is a custom to celebrate
it. When I was 20 years old, I lived in a big house with my family. My
parents had a hefty fortune inherited by my ancestors as it was before
they failed in their undertaking and lost every thing. For them, my
coming-of-age was such a big event that they had bought an expensive
sash of kimono for me months in advance for a municipal ceremony held in
the first month of the year. Since I defied the custom and didn’t
attend the ceremony for which the sash was wasted, my parents determined
that my 20th birthday should be memorable at least and planned a party.
I wasn’t told about the party because they wanted to surprise me. On my
birthday, I was hanging around and having fun with my friend until
night, not knowing that my parents and my sister waited for me with 20
red roses and expensive steaks cooked and delivered from a restaurant.
As crazy as it sounds, my curfew was 9 p.m. back then. I had too much
fun and broke it that particular day. I came home half an hour late
bracing for a rebuke from my parents. What awaited me was beyond rebuke
actually. I usually came in from the back door that was left unlocked,
but it was locked that night. I went around to the front gate that was
locked too. I thought my father had locked them by mistake and pushed an
intercom button. My mother answered and I asked her to open the door.
She said in a tearful voice, “I can’t. It’s no mistake. Your father shut
you out of the house.” She started crying and continued, “We were
preparing a party and waiting for you from this afternoon. We waited and
waited until your father got furious. He said that he didn’t want you
to come home because you never appreciated this important day and your
family. I can’t open the door. Your father doesn’t want you in this
house any more.” I was astounded at the deep trouble I suddenly got
into. I could have apologized repeatedly and begged her to let me in.
Instead, I was wondering if that was what I really wanted. I didn’t have
anything but now it was a chance to leave the house. Totally out of the
blue, the moment for a decision for life came up. If I lived in this
house forever as a family’s successor like I had been told to, I would
inherit family’s fortune. But if I threw it away, I could do whatever I
want for my own life. In a matter of seconds, I decided. I chose freedom
over money. I said, “That’s fine. I’m leaving.” I felt oddly refreshed
and upbeat. My chained life came to an abrupt end through the intercom.
My mother panicked and shouted, “What do you mean that’s fine? Wait!
Don’t go! I’m coming to open the door! Stay there!” I saw her rushing
out of the house and dashing toward the gate. She grabbed me in. On the
dining table, there were two empty plates that were my father’s and my
sister’s and two untouched steak plates that were my mother’s and mine.
In the center was a big vase with 20 roses. I ate steak with my mother
who was weeping through on my completely ruined 20th birthday. Shortly
afterwards, I eventually left home and became a musician. My mother, my
grandmother and my aunts were married unwillingly for money. My father
and my grandfather gave up what they wanted to do in order to succeed
the family. They all looked unhappy and I didn’t want to live like them.
But I also didn’t know freedom didn’t come cheap and my decision would
lead to trials and hardships that I had to endure as a consequence…
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