I was supposed to be a violinist

I was supposed to be a violinist. That’s right, no shit. I started playing violin at the age of 7 and played up until I was 19 or so. I can speak in great lengths about parental oppression, the traditional pressure to follow in the footsteps of one’s parents but I now realize something profound about their determination to make me a musician: thank you.

Every line of code I wrote as a teenager was a weapon against the stupid violin. Every dollar made from IT projects was a case of ammo. If it wasn’t for the violin I am now convinced I would have been submerged in mediocrity, cranked up few babies and enjoying a dead-end job. May be the occasional Costco flat screen TV (Not a Sony brand) and used Honda would shine as a beacon of success amongst a list of pathetic milestones of lifetime achievement. In other words tick tack. You get the rest! Oh wait, may be spirituality would have absorbed my genetically embedded desire for self-efficacy. All that is easy in the world would be on my list of worship.

Instead the violin was the enemy and my job as a general was to produce the best possible defiance that will not only keep the attacks at bay but rather incinerate the enemy by superior evidence of better life not in exchange of random dispensation of wealth (such as winning the lottery) but as a deliberate effort for superior application of one’s ability. Sticking it to the musicians was not a worthy goal. Showing superior economic status in exchange for fraction of the effort, now that is something else ladies and gentlemen. I recall the time when I came home with a grocery store bag full of cash which amounted to more than my father’s monthly salary – all in exchange of few days of networking consulting for a local looser newspaper desperate enough to seek technological competitive advantage over its rivals.

However this post is not about my career as violinist. It is about my intolerance towards mediocrity. I just spent an hour discussing career choices and other classic time killers with a friend of mine and I am angry at the level of acceptance most people have towards their professional sacrifices and the opportunity cost at which said sacrifices come. Let alone the depth of choices people make about their careers. I recall a Japanese wisdom: choose to do what you love and you shell never work a day in your life. Well said!