BROKEN STRINGS, broken people, the brokenness of things. The word ‘broken’ has been haunting me of late, almost stalking me. It has happened thrice in the last five days. First, through the inspiring story of American-Israeli violinist Yitzhak Perlman’s ‘broken strings’. Second, through the gentle chiming of Canadian singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen’s ‘bells that still ring’. And third, through a make-believe conversation with God.
Thinking back, it almost seems like a call to top up my reserves of resilience, that amazing quality of bouncing back every time life knocks one down.
According to the American Psychological Association, resilience is “the process of adapting well in the face of adversity, trauma, tragedy, threats or significant sources of stress – such as family and relationship problems, serious health problems, or workplace and financial stressors. As much as resilience involves ‘bouncing back’ from these difficult experiences, it can also involve profound personal growth.”
Broken strings
The story goes that Yitzhak Perlman – he was born in 1945 in Tel Aviv and was afflicted by polio when he was four – was performing at the Lincoln Center in New York one evening in November 1995. He had just walked in with his crutches, settled in his chair, placed the violin on his shoulder, positioned the bow, nodded at the conductor, closed his eyes and begun to play.
Barely a few bars into the piece, within some thirty seconds or so, there was a loud twang. One of the strings on Perlman’s violin had snapped.
There was a perceptible hush in the audience. Some knowing whispers, too, that the great music-maker would have to limp off stage to get himself another violin. After all, the show had to go on, didn’t it?
Casting a spell
But Perlman didn’t budge. He knew, much better than any musician on stage or music-lover in the audience, that one couldn’t play in a symphony orchestra on three strings. That night, however, he refused to break the flow.
Within seconds, his violin was back on his shoulder. Then he closed his eyes and began to play. The legend goes that he played with so much passion, power and purity that the beautiful music he made was unlike anything the audience had heard before.
At the end of the performance, there was a spellbound silence in the concert hall. Seconds later, the audience rose and erupted into deafening applause. After the euphoria subsided, one of the organisers requested Perlman to say a few words.
What remains
According to Rabbi Dov Greenberg’s version of the story (told in a Facebook video titled Only for Broken People), Perlman said just one sentence: “Our job is to make music with what remains.” Another version by a motivation guru quotes Perlman as saying: “You know, sometimes it is the artist’s task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left.”
Drawing on Perlman’s words, the rabbi’s video dwells on the quality of resilience. “In life, everyone is on center stage. Much lies broken in every one of us. But you need to play, and even if you have only three strings, play with three strings. Play with two strings. With such imperfect instruments, we are capable of creating music that’s more beautiful than we ever imagined.”
Bells that still ring
Leonard Cohen’s powerful lyrics in the song, Anthem, conveys much the same message — of imperfection, brokenness and resilience in the face of great odds. The lines are:
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering,
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
According to a report published online, Cohen disliked explaining his music but made a rare exception for Anthem. His statement on the song was recorded on a special CD of his album, The Future, released in 1992.
Cohen said: “Ring the bells that still can ring – they’re few and far between but you can find them… This is not the place where you make things perfect, neither in your marriage, nor in your work, nor anything… The thing is imperfect.
“And worse, there is a crack in everything you can put together: physical objects, mental objects, constructions of any kind. But that’s where the light gets in, and that’s where the resurrection is and that’s where the return is… It is with the confrontation, with the brokenness of things.” (Click here to listen to the song)
Chat with God
The following conversation, posted by a friend on Facebook, ties up nicely with the themes of brokenness, resilience and personal growth that we have been exploring. The author of the piece is unknown.
Me: Hello, God.
God: Hello…
Me: I’m falling apart. Can you put me back together?
God: I’d rather not.
Me: Why?
God: Because you’re not a puzzle.
Me: What about all the pieces of my life that fall to the ground?
God: Leave them there for a while. They fell for a reason. Let them be there for a while and then decide if you need to take any of those pieces back.
Me: You don’t understand… I’m breaking.
God: No, you don’t understand. You’re transcending, evolving. What you feel are growing pains. You’re getting rid of the things and people in your life that are holding you back. The pieces are not falling. The pieces are being put in place. Relax. Take a deep breath and let those things you no longer need fall. Stop clinging to pieces that are no longer for you. Let them fall. Let them go.
Changing vs becoming
Me: Once I start doing that, what will I have left?
God: Only the best pieces of yourself.
Me: I’m afraid to change.
God: I keep telling you: You’re not changing! You’re becoming!
Me: Becoming? Who?
God: Becoming who I created you to be! A person of light, love, charity, hope, courage, joy, mercy, grace and compassion. I made you for so much more than those shallow pieces you decided to adorn yourself with and that you cling to with so much greed and fear. Let those things fall off you. I love you. Don’t change. Become. Don’t change. Become. Become who I want you to be, who I created. I’ll keep telling you this until you remember.
Me: There goes another piece.
God: Yes. Let it be like this.
Me: So… I’m not broken?
God: No. You’re breaking the darkness, like dawn. It’s a new day. Become. Become who you really are.
DISCLAIMER: The story of Yitzhak Perlman’s broken violin string is available on the Internet and social media. We have not been able to independently confirm its veracity.