The Story of a Piano

When I moved into my house four and a half months ago, I discovered that the previous owners had left behind their piano. A black, upright Wurlitzer. Too heavy to move, it sat isolated in a cold room by itself, as if it were a bad child receiving its punishment. (It’s somewhat poetic that the piano is a little beaten up, with several nicks and scratches in the wood on the legs and front. But the keys…the very things that make it function…are in tip-top shape.)

Friends that came to visit were always surprised to see it in my house. “Is that yours?!” they would ask, shocked. (Those who know me well know that I failed, along with my siblings, at my father’s attempt to make us accomplished classical pianists.) So it was only natural that the time would come when I would try to get rid of it. I toyed with the idea of selling it over the past several months –sure, I could use the money!– but it wasn’t until I decided to convert the room in which the piano lived into a yoga studio that a shift occurred.

A shift of energy.

I began by posting an ad on Craig’s List, with a low-ball price, hoping that someone (an antiques dealer, the manager of a convalescent home?) would want to purchase it. Instead, I received two scam emails from people asking me where I lived and how they could wire me money. Right.

So I waited.

In the meantime, my “idea” to build a small yoga studio in my home became a reality; four women had signed up to take private yoga classes with me starting in February. Since there wasn’t enough space in the room for both yoga mats and a piano, the piano simply had to go. I suddenly felt a sense of urgency to get rid of it (only three weeks until my first yoga class!) and so I called around and left messages at different charities to see if they would take it off my hands for free. No takers.

Then I received an email from the American Repertory Theater. They had seen my ad on Craig’s List and were interested in using the piano for an upcoming theater performance. They were looking for something very specific: an old black, upright Wurlitzer.

This Friday, the piano will leave my possession to make its way to Cambridge, MA. The story of this piano made me realize: each person in this world has its destiny… as does each thing. Even though the piano had lived at that address longer than I had, it was time for it to continue its journey.