No Regrets April 16 2015 1 Comment
Beautiful strains of classical music greet me as I ascend the four flights of stairs from my underground commute home. Amid the hustle and bustle of a rush of rushing people is a sole violinist. He stands in the darkness on the slick, slate Journal Square Plaza, and plays with his eyes closed, as if transfixed by the sounds he so beautifully creates.
He pulls out a cardboard sign that reads, “I need dental surgery” and he leaves his violin case open for donations. There are a few coins strewn inside, but it seems as if he is playing more for his own enjoyment than anything else. Does he have any clue that he's bringing brightness to my day too?
Because of him, I've started looking forward to my once-dreaded, sardine-packed train ride home. As we pull into the station, I wonder if he'll be there, and I get excited when the first notes are heard amid commuter chatter. He brings a touch of class and solace to what has become a hum-drum routine, and I am thankful for his gift.
I really want to let him know about the joy he brings, but fear and shyness gives me pause. Instead of opening my mouth to tell him thank you, I berate myself on the walk past.
So, like a shy kid on scanning the lunch room for a friendly place to sit, I finally worked up the nerve to stop and say hi... But, I'm sad to say, it looks like I may have missed my chance. For the past ten workdays, the violinist has not had any performances.
Now, instead of the anticipation of ending my work day on a high note, it ends on a note of regret. Why didn't I take the chance when I had it - the chance to ask, to listen, and learn. From now on, whenever faced with the option of "do it now" or "put it off", I will choose the former. The only person who misses out on a missed opportunity is me.