These outlets aren’t restricted solely to music though, as my wandering mind demands creativity in various forms. Writing and reading tend to be high on my list, and at school, I take classes on creative writing as well as writing for a literary magazine. When my fidgety hands require a more physical form of creativity, I occupy them by crocheting or baking from time to time.
Though not necessarily my top priority, continuing to foster my need for artistic expression was something I considered before coming abroad. This consideration mainly took the form of the decision to live at either the Machova or Osadni dorm while in Prague. Though I was drawn to the surrounding neighborhood of Machova, Vinohrady, as well as the fact that my future roommate wanted to live there, the idea of being immersed in a creative community of musicians and artists appealed deeply to me– not to mention the studio built into the basement of the dorm felt as though it was calling to me. While I ultimately chose to live at Machova, I was unable to let go of the notion that I was somehow resigning myself to a monochromatic life without creativity. If music and the humanities were the fruits for my soul, but going abroad meant abandoning them, how would I color my life?
The answers to my dilemma did not come to me in a prophetic dream or with a single decision, but rather the collective choices I have made in the past few months leading up to and during my semester abroad. With great hesitancy, I decided to sign up for the Jazz-ish ensemble at NYU Prague as a vocalist and occasional (amateur) instrumentalist. With so little information on this class available online, I left caution to the wind and chose to explore the genre I had often been interested in but lacked convenient opportunities to engage in hitherto. Expecting to walk into an entire band of professional jazz instrumentalists (NYU’s reputation as a school for prodigious creatives is well and alive!), I stepped into the Osadni basement on the first day of rehearsal, shocked to be met by the stares of only five other people.
Yet, my concerns evaporated within the hour, when I was reminded why I had chosen to be there in the first place: to cultivate my love of music in the presence and with the collaboration of like-minded people. While the other members of the ensemble live on the other side of the invisible demarcation that separates Osadni and Machova residents, I have found friendship and inspiration in them as unapologetically creative individuals. Gradually, the jazz ensemble has become a class I look forward to every week.
Recently, I was allowed to bring back a guitar to my dorm to practice with without having to take the 45+ minute trek (by public transportation) from Machova to Osadni. When my suitemates are out of the house, I find myself gravitating towards the instrument not solely to practice the songs for our ensemble, but to sing my own favorite songs against the backdrop of the strings.
In doing so, I have discovered just how important creative outlets are to nurture the soul. As Robin Williams says in Dead Poets Society, “Medicine, law, business, engineering; these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love; these are what we stay alive for.” While I had been looking forward to the transformation of identity and perspective guaranteed to me from a semester abroad, I had abandoned one of the core tenets of my identity, an essential component of who I am. I had been searching for internal meaning in and guidance from the external–the beautiful Prague–eating crispy, golden pastries in cozy cafes and exploring stunning landscapes in parks. However, it was only when I engaged in outlets for creativity in these settings that I found meaning.
In the past few months in Prague, I haven’t felt more at home than when I was writing down the events of my day or some new sociological tangent my mind had gone on in my journal in Grebovka Park. I haven’t felt more at peace with myself than when I plugged into the new Tyler The Creator album while reading The Song of Achilles at MY Coffee, a warm cafe (with an incredible chai latte!) near Old Town. I haven’t found more joy in my identity than when I practiced with my jazz ensemble in the admittedly horror movie-esque basement that is the Osadni music studio (Seriously, the first time I went down there I genuinely feared for my life).
I can’t boast of writing or singing anything truly incredible or life-altering. I’m sure the vast majority of thoughts I write down in my journal have already been written a thousand times before, and the short poems I jot down likely border on poor Milk and Honey imitations. The melodies I sing are pitchy and technically questionable, as a result of residual illness and a voice that hasn’t formally warmed up in months. But, the quality of what I produce is not of relevance to me. It is the mere act of engaging in them at all that keeps me emotionally satiated and mentally stimulated. When I abandoned these, I abandoned the crux of who I am. When I re-discovered them, somehow this city became more effervescent than it was before, now intrinsically connected to the things that have always brought and continue to bring me joy.
So, I urge you in your journey abroad not to take so long to find and nurture the things that feed your soul. Maybe yours won’t be quite so disruptive to your roommates– maybe that means going on runs and listening to podcasts in the morning before the city has awoken. Maybe that means finding time for meditation and yoga before you go to sleep. Maybe that means sketching all the places you discover in Prague in a journal you’ll never show anyone. In all likelihood, it’s something I haven’t even mentioned, a specific activity constructed from all the components that make up your unique identity. Regardless, be sure that in the process of metamorphosis you undergo when abroad, you don’t lose sight of the person underneath it all. That’s the piece that sticks with you for the rest of your life.
