It’s 99 percent likely that you know someone who plays the piano, have a friend who does, or perhaps play it yourself. And I’m in the one percent who doesn’t.

I was born and raised in Hong Kong. In this city, nearly every child learns a musical instrument because it is assessed in school, and schools—and often parents—want children to have talents. Many choose the piano. And by many it means that if you randomly ask someone out on the street if they can play piano, they typically say, “Yes, I do.”

I tried the piano when I was in kindergarten (about 4 or 5 years old). I remember having two piano teachers, but since the last one was quite strict, which I didn’t enjoy, I quit.

When I started primary school, I chose to learn something I found special: the Guzheng (古箏), a traditional Chinese instrument. Unlike the piano, no one else in my class played it. I remember being drawn to it because there was a popular Chinese drama called My Fair Princess (還珠格格) on TV at the time, and the female lead played the Guzheng. I thought it looked cool to play.

But I’m not particularly into music. This means that I listen to music, but I don’t create my own music, and I’m not enthusiastic about practicing the Guzheng at all. I took exams like everyone else to get higher grades in Guzheng, but by secondary school, I gave up and haven’t played it since.

In my secondary school, I started learning the violin, again, because schools encouraged us to have hobbies and talents. Many of my friends played the violin, and I thought it was cool. 

I learned it for three years without taking any exams, as getting higher grades was no longer compulsory for students in secondary school. But as I entered high school, I stopped playing and haven’t learned any new musical instrument since then.

Last summer, my friend and I discussed new things we wanted to try. We first considered sports, like playing badminton weekly, going to the gym, or doing Pilates—something popular. Then, we thought about learning the piano. Neither my friend nor I had learned it before (Yes I tried it once but had forgotten everything, so it really didn’t count), and we thought it would be fun to learn something many of our friends knew. We checked the prices of practice rooms, found them too expensive, and decided not to do it.

At the end of last summer, however, that friend bought an app to learn the piano. (She didn’t realize there was a fee initially, but she’s learning now, so it was a happy mistake. At least, that’s what I thought at the time; I haven’t asked if she’s still learning.)

Yet the idea of learning the piano lingered in my mind. Despite my early experience and not liking it (perhaps it was just the teacher), I found myself drawn to it. Maybe I genuinely like the piano, or perhaps it’s a newly developed passion for music, I thought.

But still I didn’t learn it. 

Recently, I watched a South Korean variety show called I lived alone featuring artists who live alone. It’s a good show for someone like me, living alone, and for fans who enjoy seeing their favourite artists’ lives. There is this one episode that featured a male actor, Ahn Jae-hyun, in his late 30s, who was divorced and living alone. On the day documenting his usual daily routine, he booked a piano room. The show’s MCs thought he played quite well. But as they kept watching, everyone becomes slightly shocked by his late entry into piano, but they were also encouraging. 

It is hard to start something new in mid-life because as adults, learning is much slower than for kids, and there are also many more priorities and responsibilities aside from developing our own interests. Interests and passions often get pushed aside in the back of our minds, only to resurface sometimes at night before sleep, wishing we could have pursued them. Watching that artist and my friend playing the piano, I realized that what lingered in my mind was the desire for the courage to start something new, something that gives me excitement, motivates and inspires me to wake up in the morning knowing that there’s something I would be passionate about doing—not just piano or music.

Time and money are constraints most of us face. You can’t just drop your studies or job to try out something completely different. Many times, thoughts about pursuing new interests may get pushed back by these practicalities. And that’s what I’ve been thinking about for a long time.

But with so much to work on while I was studying, and even more responsibilities outside of my studies, especially during holidays and vacations, I’ve come to realize that this isn’t entirely true. As a final year student, there’s never enough time for me. I’m busy with studies during term time, I’m traveling during holidays, I’m managing everyday tasks like housework during my spare time. I’m always going to lack time, and obviously money.

I could always wait until retirement. Of course. But why?

Why wait for an optimal time that might never come to start learning the piano, or to pursue passions and adventures you’ve always wanted to embark on? If there is one thing I learned from watching my friends and others pursue what they like and want to do made, it is that there’s no need to wait until you feel content or the timing seems perfect, because that moment may never arrive. I’ve pondered this myself many times before. If I had waited, I wouldn’t have done many things. True, I might not always be proud of or necessarily achieve satisfactory results, but I will always hold onto the thought that at least I tried and did it my way. So now I can say whether I liked it or not. 

It is like this blog. Like piano. 

Instead of staying in the shadows and thinking, “Ah, I could do this too,” or better yet, why not step into the spotlight to shine and fly, disregarding the results of what you might achieve? These are lessons I’m glad to have recently learned.

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

Passion makes people shine and grow. So be the stars, not the one staring or looking. 

And this is the realization that came with my story about the piano.

As always, thanks for reading.