When One Door Closes, Another Door Opens
The light is blinding.
It is so bright, that minuscule pieces of dust could be seen ever so slightly floating
aimlessly in the air. As I approach the stage, I cannot not help but notice the
clicking of my boots against the uneven floorboard, and with every shallow breath,
I am drawing closer to the microphone. The silhouettes of the audience are
vague, quite obscure due to the fact that I forgot to put on my glasses. I look
to my left, and then to my right, and I see my friends are with me, and we are
ready to perform. I take in a rushed deep breath, and then let it all out. Afterward,
our beautiful songs ensue. At first my voice is shaky, but soon we are harmonizing
and smiling at each other, unable to fathom that we are on stage; we are
singing our hearts out. At the end of our performance, the audience cheers voraciously,
as if they want more. I think to myself, "Maybe we could actually win this
thing."
Seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like days; as we
are waiting for the results. As I look up, knees shaking and my body ironically
cold to the touch, the emcees begin to announce the winners. As they are
speaking, in my head their mouths are moving yet no sound is coming out. I
watch as the third, second, and first place winners receive their prizes, and
in a fraction of a second, the sound of cheers returns, but it is not for us.
It hits me like a heavy brick wall that we did not win. I applaud and smile,
although a piece of me still wishes the contrary.
At the end of the talent show, a group of students
suddenly approach me and commend me for my vocals. I am taken by surprise but
very thankful for their compliments. They advise me to audition for the schools
vocal group, and I humbly reply to them that I will think about it. We exchange
more small talk, weary smiles, and head home. I tell myself in the car, "I
won't even get in. What is the use in trying?"
A couple of days have passed, and I find myself holding
the sheet music for the audition. I am in awe at how thick the papers are, but
nevertheless I work diligently at the music. After hours of hard work every day,
I am finally ready.
The day of the audition is a busy one. I walk into the audition
space, and I am greeted by many hopefuls in the room. I take a seat, and watch
as the others nervously share their vocal talent. The air in the room is
stagnant, and the facial expressions of the teachers are indecipherable. As I
notice this, my name is called out and it is my turn to sing.
The moment I open my mouth, something happens. I overlook
the fact that I am in an audition, I sing the best I can, and even though I am
nervous; I use that energy to fuel my voice, to allow my character to shine
through. My whole body is immersed in song, I am involuntarily snapping to the
beat, and my lips are extended in a smile.
I remember it was the day of my science exams when I had
found out I had gotten in the group, and I rushed to the door where all the
names were posted on a shiny piece of parchment, my name typed in black ink;
permanent, visible, and real. It is a day I will never forget.
Throughout all of this, I have learned that when you want
something, you will not always get it the first time. Sometimes, you may never
get it at all. However, when you work hard at something, and let go of
underestimating your talent and potential, many positive things can shine
through. Indeed, when one door closes, another door definitely opens.
