I, Chopin

There are only so many things a newly graduated music teacher can think about at night: If the last piece I had to turn in before I could graduate was good enough, the last school I applied to (and got rejected from) and the rent I haven’t paid in almost three months to name a few. Clearly, when I list those, you don’t think these thoughts will be followed by how I’m going to be in the body of one of the greatest musicians of all time (who in fact has passed away almost two centuries ago) tomorrow morning, do you?

I, as a spiritual traveller, possess the power of travelling in time and within people as well as being an unemployed musician. The last weekend (which I’ve spent as no other than Ludwig van Beethoven) was quite a unique experience, let me tell you. It’s fascinating how much music you can produce without hearing any of it!

You might be curious about my plans for tomorrow. Well, the destination is Vienna, where I will be in the body of Frédéric Chopin who’s just about to make his debut performance. The thought of being in place of Chopin as he takes the first step to become one of the most well-known musicians of all time does not sound like the typical worries of ordinary life that keep you awake at 4 in the morning, and quite frankly I can’t really tell if it’s a blessing or a curse that I feel used to the feeling of casually going back and forth in time: It’s almost as uninteresting as planning my lunch for tomorrow at this point.

I will check his room first, obviously! When I travel, it’s a habit of mine to look at the environment they live, sleep and work in. Is it messy (like Johannes Brahms) or neat (like Dmitri Shostakovich)? What is it about this place that inspires this musician to write all of those masterpieces? Do they like to stay here?

Of course playing the instrument has to come second, which is piano in most cases. Feeling the smooth or harsh movements of the hand that belongs to the body I’m in is never a boring experience. I need to make the most of the swift and quick movements of the talented hands I get to use for a day or two.

The last thing I need to do before I go back to my own body, my own century and my own life is carefully analyzing his compositions in his own handwriting, from his personal notes. I might’ve already studied them a million times in college, however it’s a different feeling to look at the compositions as the composer.

After I’m done, I’ll turn back to my body (My home sweet home!) and go on with my life as if nothing happened. I’m just an unemployed music teacher after all.

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