What Changed With the Coronavirus Part 2
I began to walk slowly.
I began to eat slowly.
I started to bathe, taking good long soaks in the tub, thinking slowly, and shopping slowly.
I moved away from swallowing three whole, raw eggs and began to taste them by cooking them in a frying pan in various ways.
Walking slowly, you see all sorts of things. After the rain, the grass and plants are so fragrant. The flowers that grow at our feet are so beautiful and alive, even though they are not cherished by anyone,
When I hear and look towards the sweet voices of the children in nursery schools, I feel so peaceful, by their ways of looking around curiously at everything they see, in the safe hands of their teachers. I too, must have grown up with such protection in my childhood, and often feel grateful to my parents and those who have already passed away.
When you eat slowly, you can taste fully the flavour and the ingredients of the food. I feel grateful for the warmth of the people who have grown the vegetables and the rice.
The pleasure to shop slowly, thinking about what to eat and what to cook that day. I had never done that kind of thing before.
I had ran all my life.
I kept running as fast as I could, since I was twelve years old, from the day when I made my professional debut. My father had often told me, “Life is a long race”, looking at me running. But I kept running and there was a time that I fell and could not get back on my feet.
But as it was such a difficult task to keep up my school studies and my violin simultaneously, I was always short of time and kept on running, in my life, my daily life, and the way I spent my day, and everything else too.
I remember my mother also telling me “You need to sit down”.
I could not sit down because I couldn’t waste any time.
To me, playing the violin on stage and communicating with the audience was normal daily life.
It was a norm for me to talk to the audience at signing sessions after the concerts, shaking hands with them too.
I was breathing with music, the instrument called violin, with Beethoven, and Bach. There was music on stage, as if it was a natural thing.
Now that I have realized that it is not the norm, the “once in a lifetime” experience has changed to a miraculous joy.
I dream of being on stage.
I spend my time practicing alone in my room, awaiting eagerly for the precious encounter with the audience with whom I can share the wonderful performances of Mozart, Tchaikovsky and Kreisler.
Talking, with my Stradivarius.