I think all musicians have at one time or another experienced

Hear the humble words of Yo-Yo Ma, master of the cello, whose music has stirred the hearts of kings and commoners alike, yet who speaks with the honesty of one who has known frailty: “I think all musicians have at one time or another experienced one physical problem or another. I have had tendinitis a couple of times, so I try to be really careful. It takes patience and persistence to overcome injury.” In these words, the great artist does not boast of triumphs, but confesses the hidden struggle beneath every performance: the body, though servant of art, is also fragile, and mastery requires not only talent but endurance.

The origin of this saying lies in Yo-Yo Ma’s lifelong devotion to music. From his youth he practiced with relentless passion, offering hours each day to his instrument. Yet even for the most gifted, the physical strain of playing can bring pain. The hands, arms, and shoulders bear the burden of repetition, and the soul of an artist must contend with the limits of flesh. By admitting to tendinitis, Yo-Yo Ma reminds us that greatness does not come without wounds, and that even the masters are tested. His message is not despair but wisdom: that through patience and persistence, one may rise again.

Consider the image of the artist at practice, fingers trembling, tendons aching, yet refusing to abandon the instrument. Many would see injury as an end; but Yo-Yo Ma sees it as a teacher. The body demands care, discipline, and rest, just as the mind demands learning and the spirit demands faith. His words remind us that true mastery lies not in never falling, but in rising carefully, again and again, until even pain becomes part of the path to perfection.

History, too, gives us mirrors of this truth. Think of the warrior Samurai, who trained his body ceaselessly until wounds and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. Yet it was said that the strongest were not those who never bled, but those who endured pain with calm discipline, healing slowly, never abandoning the way of the sword. So too with the musician: the bow across the strings is as demanding as the sword upon the battlefield, and the patience to heal is as heroic as the courage to fight.

The heart of Yo-Yo Ma’s wisdom is this: talent alone is not enough. Inspiration alone is not enough. Even passion is not enough. To create beauty that endures requires patience—the willingness to accept delay, to trust in slow recovery, to rest when needed—and persistence—the refusal to surrender, the discipline to return each day, no matter how small the progress. These two virtues together forge resilience, and without them no artist, no worker, no dreamer can endure.

The lesson for us all is clear: whether in art, in work, or in life, we will all face setbacks, injuries, and failures. When they come, do not despair, and do not rush. Learn to listen to your body, your spirit, your limits. Rest when you must, then return with persistence. Greatness is not found in the absence of struggle but in the triumph over it. If Yo-Yo Ma, who has touched the world with music, needed patience to overcome his trials, then surely we too can learn to walk the slow road of healing.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: when hardship comes, when injury or failure strikes, do not see it as the end. Let it temper you, let it teach you. Approach recovery not with haste but with care, not with despair but with determination. For the path to mastery is long, and only those who endure with patience and persistence will see its end. And when you rise again, stronger and wiser, your work—whether in art, in music, or in life—will carry the deep resonance of one who has suffered and overcome.