Musings

individuals

His name was Ludwig Van Beethoven. He was a German man of humble birth that rose up to such greatness that his name was forever pinned down in history for being one of the world's most notable prodigious musicians. In fact, he had such expertise in his field that people got the impression that the notes just came freely to him, harmonizing in his head, just waiting to be penned down on a sheet of parchment to be reborn as a symphony.

They were mistaken.

Beethoven used to lock himself up for days as he tried to compose a new piece. Plates upon plates of food will have gone untouched in front of his door as he prayed for God to bless him with a pinch of inspiration. He'd spend this whole time rooted in front of his piano, pressing keys, listening, composing.

It's not an easy task, composing. It requires skill and patience of a certain level. Composing is complex; if it wasn't there would be a shortage of sonatas and symphonies decades after the first tune was hummed, the first string plucked, the first key pressed. Even the greatest musicians have not uncovered all of its secrets, all the nooks and crannies of this activity. One cannot guarantee that a musical piece, even one made by the likes of Beethoven himself, will successfully haunt your audience's mind long after the final note has been played. It's never easy -tremendous amounts of consideration must be applied when stringing notes together, because these notes, these tiny sprout-like figures, are all that's behind the magic.

Composing is... elaborate, but so are us humans. There are so many different types of us -we may be the rhythmic sonata, the grandiose symphony, the flair-for-the-poetics ballade, or the feisty polka- but one thing is clear. We are all masterpieces. Each of our notes are unique, and each of our notes inspire. Even the softest notes can light the sparks that further ignite into an inferno. We are different, and because of this, we are to be shared. We are to be showcased, each one of us, as the masterpieces that we are.

So why, when we have created dozens of categories for the various types of musical compositions, do we pigeon-hole everyone into just one being? Why do we try so hard to be something we're clearly not? Why is it that comparing ourselves to others come as a second nature to us? Why is it so that, when someone completely different comes along, we feel so dishearteningly inferior because we can't ever be this better person, with better appearances and better talents?

Why?

Why is it so easy for our brains to accept that an arabesque is not a chaconne but so hard to understand that we are all individuals in this world -each one to be treated individually?