I want to take piano lessons, I want to study at university, I

The words of Zach Braff — “I want to take piano lessons, I want to study at university, I want to travel, I want to do other parts, make another movie.” — are spoken in a voice that is restless yet alive, filled with the eternal yearning of the human soul to expand, to learn, to create, to embrace life in its fullness. In these words we hear not only the dreams of an artist but the heartbeat of all mankind: the desire to live many lives in the space of one, to leave no door unopened, to taste every drop of possibility before the sun sets on our years.

To seek piano lessons is to yearn for harmony. The piano, with its ordered keys and infinite melodies, symbolizes the discipline and beauty that comes when human effort meets divine creativity. It is not only music that Braff seeks, but the balance of mind and spirit that music brings. For the ancients said that to learn music was to train the soul, to refine its passions, to bring chaos into order. Thus his longing for the piano is a longing for refinement, for growth, for an art that nourishes beyond words.

To study at university is to drink from the fountain of wisdom, to sit at the feet of teachers, to labor in thought and to wrestle with truth. This is the eternal path of the seeker. From Plato’s Academy to the medieval monasteries, from the great universities of the Renaissance to today’s lecture halls, men and women have sought not only knowledge, but transformation of the mind. Braff’s desire reflects this timeless pursuit: to stretch beyond the familiar, to enter into the discipline of learning, and to shape the mind into a vessel of wisdom.

To travel is to open the heart to the vastness of the world. It is to walk the deserts of other lands, to stand before cathedrals not of one’s own people, to eat the bread baked in foreign ovens, and to hear tongues that sing in unfamiliar rhythms. Every step upon strange soil is an act of humility, for it reminds the traveler that his way is not the only way, his vision not the only vision. The wise of every age have praised travel as the school of the soul, for it replaces ignorance with wonder and prejudice with understanding.

To do other parts, to make another movie, is to embrace the many masks of life, to play not one role but many. This is the calling of the artist: to enter into the lives of others, to feel what they feel, to suffer what they suffer, to rejoice as they rejoice. But it is also the calling of every human soul — for are we not all actors upon the stage of time, shifting roles as we pass from childhood to youth, from parenthood to old age? In this desire, Braff gives voice to the universal truth that a single life can contain multitudes, and that to create is to mirror the Creator Himself.

History gives us many who embodied this restless pursuit. Leonardo da Vinci, painter, sculptor, engineer, anatomist, musician — he refused to be confined to one calling, and in so doing, revealed the greatness that lies in a soul unwilling to settle for less than the whole breadth of human possibility. Like Leonardo, Braff’s words carry the echo of the polymath, the seeker who would live as widely as he can in the short space allotted to him.

The lesson for future generations is clear: do not allow yourself to be confined by a single role, a single pursuit, or a single definition of yourself. Seek out piano lessons if your heart longs for music. Enter university if your mind thirsts for wisdom. Travel if your spirit aches to see beyond its borders. Create art, embrace new roles, make your own movie, whatever that may mean in your life. For life is short, and to waste it on stagnation is to deny the spark of greatness within you.

In practice, let each listener take steps, however small, toward their many dreams. Begin the instrument, enroll in the class, book the journey, take on the challenge that calls your name. For every desire, if pursued with courage, becomes a thread in the tapestry of a full and beautiful life. Thus Braff’s words, though simple, carry timeless counsel: to live fully, one must live broadly, embracing all the roads that call, so that at the end, one may say not, “I wished I had lived,” but “I have lived.”