The Day I Became a Street Musician

It's called "busking." Did you know that? I didn't. That day, I wasn't sure what to call what I was about to go do.

I stood in my room before a mirror, my hat and sunglasses on, sun lotion applied, and my violin case strapped to my back.

I was nervous.

I tried talking myself out of it a thousand times. But what if nobody wants to hear your music? What if you actually get on their nerves? What if you aren't any good? 

But then, my heart would fight back. You've wanted to do this for so long. Why not do it? Everyone will just walk by, if they don't like the song they will just keep walking! It's not like you are making them listen. Besides, people probably won't even remember you. It will be a moment that means way more to you than to anyone else. 

For the past year or so, I had had this crazy dream to stand on a sidewalk and be a street musician, my case propped open and everything. I have played violin since I was 5 years old, and currently I have a violin with me abroad that a friend gave me when she moved. It comes out every once in a while, just for me to play in my room and warm up on a few songs. But lately, the old nudge to get out and play had been creeping back into my mind. It's sad to just sit in my room and play for myself; why wasn't I sharing my music with others? What if I did something more with it?

I've enjoyed my own share of street music. One fond memory I have is from Charleston a few years back with my family. We sat in an open-air restaurant, eating our seafood, and across the street stood a young college guy playing his saxophone. It was the most beautiful thing ever, and it made our meal so much more relaxing and enjoyable as we sat back and listened to him play. After enjoying so much of his music, we walked over after our meal to drop a few bucks in his case. Come to find out, he was a music student who decided that if he needed to spend a few hours practicing each day, he might as well make some money while doing it. The fact was, we got the better end of the deal. When he shared his music with us that day, it was a beautiful gift that I will never forget. 

I almost didn't walk out of my apartment door that day with my violin on my back. My fears almost got the better of me. As I shuffled out of my apartment, I told myself, You know what, you look kind of cool and hipster with the violin on your back. If you don't end up playing, at least you will look chic while walking along the boardwalk. 

I walked to the local sahil and all of a sudden was overcome by the crowds. It was a Sunday afternoon. In April. The sun was shining, and literally every person who had a soul inside of them was out on that boardwalk. My fears started welling up, and I couldn't understand why I was so scared.

So I walked.

And walked.

There were so many people and so many boats, and so many people on the boats, and so many fishermen....I felt like I was trying to get myself to skydive I was so frightened. But I wanted to play so badly. My fingers itched. So I kept walking. Eventually, I walked past the most crowded areas and parks and found a place where there weren't any boats docked, and it was just plain boardwalk.

So I sat down. I stared at the water. I told myself that it would be a good start to slowly unpack my violin. I did, while getting a few strange looks.

And I started playing. I was wearing my hat and sunglasses, which made it easier for me to not even look at the people walking by, but to just focus on my playing. And I got more brave...and more loud...and the music became more beautiful. More full of soul.

My first lira came from a little girl. She was about 5 years old. She walked up to me mid-song, holding out her coin in her hand. I stopped, took it, thanked her, sat it in my lap, and kept on playing. After that first coin, they somehow just kept falling. One lady even put a 10 lira bill in my case.

But money can't compare to how I felt.

I had conquered a fear. I had fulfilled a dream. 

The lies in my head that said people wouldn't like my music, they were so wrong. I had a lady clap. Some people video-taped me. One person stopped and sat nearby, chatting with me later after I finished. My music not only brought sunshine to my heart; it brought sunshine to theirs as well.

Don't let you fears tell you that you can't do something. Don't let anything stop you from fulfilling a dream.

All those roadblocks that you see are only ant hills in reality; step on over them and live.