Finding My Rhythm After Sixty

For most of my life, my identity was wrapped up in being a professional and a home maker. As a financial advisor, my world was governed by numbers, market trends and client meetings. I loved the fast-paced nature of my work, diving deep into office tasks, managing my home, interacting with other professionals to learn the best ways to serve my clients and giving talks across the globe to share my best practices. Life was busy, productive, and structured. It was exactly what I thought a successful life should look like.

About ten years ago, I remember attending a Financial Conference where the speaker talked about the importance of standing out. He said that in order to leave a lasting impression on clients, you had to do something unique. That really got my wheels turning. I started brainstorming ways to be different, and a completely "out of the box" idea hit me: why not wish my clients on their birthday by playing an instrument for them?

I chose the flute. To be honest, I chose it for very practical, non-musical reasons. It was small, light to carry and I had this misconception that it would be easy to learn. I managed to huff and puff my way through four lines of "Happy Birthday" in about two weeks and made a video. My goal was simple: "Wow" my clients. And it worked! Praises started pouring in and mission was established

But that was it! The flute went into some corner in a cabinet because quite soon it had dawned upon me that actually playing the instrument - really playing it -required a level of discipline and time that I just didn't have. Passion alone wasn't going to be enough to commit to it back then. My life was too full of work and domestic responsibilities. The flute disappeared from my life just as fast as it had arrived.

Fast forward ten years. I turned 60. A major milestone when life has a way of slowing you down when you refuse to do it yourself. I suffered a bad fracture in my foot that simply didn’t heal for three long months. Being stuck, unable to move at my usual frantic pace, forced me into a deep, heavy realization. I felt like I was "aging" much faster than I had ever imagined. I looked at the calendar, the mirror and then at my life and said to myself, "Priti, 75% of your life has already passed you by."

It was a wake-up call. I told myself that from this point on, life couldn't just be about office and home. There had to be a "third balance" – which was actually living life. I needed to do something to stir up my body, my mind, my spirit and my soul. While I began incorporating physical activity, exercising, gyming, travelling, etc.. I needed to identify what would fill my “Me-time", which was only going to increase as I retired from active office work and home responsibilities.

The turning point came one day while I was watching a video of my two-year-old granddaughter, Radha. She was singing a bhajan, "Shree Krishna Govind Hare Murari," while clinking her little manjeeras with pure, unadulterated glee. As I watched her, a vision flashed in my mind: I saw myself playing the flute in the background while she sang. The connection felt divine. Radha, Krishna, and the Bansuri. It felt like a calling I couldn't ignore this time.

I tried to search the flute that was buried a decade ago, but we had changed homes. I went straight to Google and searched for an online teacher. That’s how I found Harsh Sir. Before I could overthink it or tell myself I was too busy, I enrolled.

In just three weeks I transitioned from a straight flute to the side flute and completed the foundation course. Harsh Sir was organizing a workshop in Mumbai and suggested I perform on stage. I was so excited! I practiced until my fingers ached. However, the journey from falling in love with my flute to actually performing was terrifying. When I reached the hall and saw the stage and the people, I froze. And when I say I froze, I mean my flute froze too. No sound was coming out. I backed out of the performance feeling defeated and embarassed. Sir came up to me later and said, "You should have played, Pritiji. You missed an opportunity to play for your family."

I looked around the room and saw people patting each other. Strangers cheering for beginners who hit wrong notes. No one was judging. No one was laughing. They really were like a family. That was the moment everything shifted. I realized I wasn't just learning an instrument; I was joining a community! Towards the end of the evening, I started talking to other students, exchanging numbers and sharing our joys and frustrations.

That community changed how I approached playing the flute. Now, even though I still get butterflies every time I have to play before others in class or at Sir’s regular flute retreats, I am flooded with the encouraging gestures he has taught us: The "Whoosh" of support we give to each other by stretching both hands forward – feels like energy being transferred to settle the butterflies and the "MPTY" (More Power To You) and hearts that we shower afterwards in the Zoom chat. Those expressions from my flute buddies just melts away my inhibitions. I used to be a cocoon of nerves; now, the butterflies are gradually starting to stretch their wings.

In less than two years I moved from a straight fluter to L3. I know it is a life time journey and I will not have touched even the tip of the mountain. But the joy it has already brought me is hard to put into words. Lets just say it has elevated my body, mind, spirit and soul. It isn't just a hobby; it’s a companion. I see so many people my age feeling lonely or depressed because they feel their "productive" years are over. Because of the flute, I know I will never be in that category. It has given the word Retirement a whole new meaning. Retirement isn't slowing down or fading away; it’s a beginning.

Every day, I am learning something new. I have friends I can talk to about anything, not just music. Most importantly, I’ve found a way to give back. I now have the privilege of mentoring new learners who are just starting their journey. Forever grateful to Harsh Sir!

When I hold my flute today, it doesn't feel like a prop to impress a client. It feels like a part of me. It represents the balance I finally found between work, home and Me. I’m not just a financial advisor or a grandmother; I am a student of life, and I am finally playing my own song.

— Priti Kucheria