A few months ago, I decided I wanted to learn how to play guitar. I was fortunate enough to get connected with a blues guitarist (the very talented, Paul), who generously lended me his time for a few beginner lessons. 
Within my first guitar lesson, I learned to play, and to hear something beautiful. When I would strum the chords, I would immediately put my hands over them to stop the unnecessary sound from coming through. I did this simply because they were the wrong chords, and I was embarrassed. I kept doing this repetitively, and each time, Paul would so kindly reassure me and say, ‘let it be, let it sing’. It was as though I was committing some sort of a crime to block the sound of the seemily disjointed chords from screaming; to him, they were singing. I’ll never forget that. I don’t stop the sound of a ‘mistake’ anymore. 

I was reminded of this encounter, just now, as I heard a child crying from a distance, and more clearly heard the father of the child audibly providing instruction to halt the tears. Why do we stop pain from making itself audible, at such a young age? Why is this something that we must do? I so wonder why the process of a mistake is so early introduced as something of shame and guilt. 

We should allow the embracing of all parts and pieces of ourselves, so that it is not something we need to go back and re-learn as adults, if we are so fortunate to have the opportunity. 

In Ludwig Museum in Budapest, there is an entire exhibit dedicated to the process of the making of art. The art, itself, is a depiction of the process of creating the final production, which would then be deconstructed, and simultaneously also documented. This is shown in photos and video. For me, this had become a work that had so deeply resonated. The concept of the process of becoming, and not hiding it, but rather showcasing and embracing it as the art itself, is an extraordinary realization and brave action. 

We should not be ashamed of our draft pieces, but rather be okay and open with them as for what they are – a real, and beautiful extension of ourselves and our human experience. 

I have met so many unique individuals through this journey. Among many, there is one lesson in particular I have learned from each of them: we are all made of greatness, however only some recognize the full amount of (infinite) space they (can) occupy. There are some whom try to take up more space by shrinking the sizes of others, and there are others who shrink themselves and seek to find pockets of resemblance where they can mimic and feel a sense of identity. The currency exchange of greatness is found via corporate hierarchies, social media followership, and even in the spaces of a language exchange. I refuse to abide by those rules, and I especially refuse to acknowledge that there are some spaces that make me smaller than another. We are all indeed composed of the same elements, so why not see in the space of an equal and fair platform for all to be able to play in this sandbox?

Anna Badrieh