A few month ago, I had a chance to interview a deaf percussionist while she was performing in Hong Kong. And I had the nicest, most touching interaction with another human being, a stranger really, for a very long time.
Arriving at the hotel where she was staying, I didn't have any expectation. I knew what her story was about, briefly, by reading a few reports about her online. I knew what her face looked like. And I knew what I was going to ask her.
When we met, I felt a calm air surrounding us, projected by her graceful look and gentle smile.
We sat down to talk for an hour. I felt relaxed, though I was aware she has been deaf since 12 and wearing a hearing aid. There was no sign of her having difficulties hearing my questions, even when some local guests sitting next to us were talking loudly - like shouting - at their table. I frowned at them, she didn't.
We touched on her childhood and the moment when she knew she was going to be profoundly deaf as a teenager. And we talked about how her music teacher told her to quit the idea of wanting to be a solo percussionist. "It simply didn't exist," she was told. I wonder if the teacher said that out of kindness because he knew she was deaf and so that would be an impossible goal.
Everything went well and up to the point when I said thank you for her time. Then something happened. We continued to sit for a while, and started to chat.
I didn't know how and why but we started to talk about something else - something personal.
I told her a recent feeling I had - I would wake up in the morning not having the drive or desire to do what I am doing, the feeling of being stuck and disappointed about everything.
And she shared with me a personal story. For a few years when she also felt 'stuck' in her life and her career, like there was no end or future to anything.
"The reason why you're frustrated is because you care about what you do. You're passionate about it; therefore you're frustrated. That's why you feel stuck," she said to me.
"What should I do to keep myself going on?"
"Well, there's really nothing you can do but keep on doing what you're doing, every day.
And then, one day, the river will come flowing again."
There was a moment of silence, before we stood up and walked out together.
At the lobby, I thanked her again as I said goodbye. She smiled at me while we shook hands.
Walking out the hotel, I felt a warm feeling inside me, an urge to cry.
Sometimes, we hear the nicest thing from a stranger, on a random evening, in a hotel in Wan Chai.
Note: The kind soul and famous artist I interviewed was Evelyn Glennie.
Listen to her TED talk: "How to truly listen" here.
Read my short interview with her "To her own beat" here.
