He loves music since childhood. He went through vigorous trainings and entered a renowned music academia. Upon graduation, as life had it, he became a butcher. Decades ensued.
Now he is a middle-aged and successful butcher. He has a happy family, lives in a nice suburb house, enjoys a comfortable middle class lifestyle. There is this regret that he never became a musician.
The local orchestra has a opening for a entry-level violinist, the pay is low, there will be high demand for practice time, his fellow musicians are all decades younger. The manager, his good friend, hinted that if he auditions, the job would be his. Without this favor, however, it is quite questionable.
At this time, his boss, the owner and head butcher, retires. The shop is his if he wants to. More money, better lifestyle.
“Honey,” his wife said. “You are not a musician. You are a butcher.”
We are what we do, not what we want to be. Get over this.
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