Baking With A Difference ...

Last week I reached the end of my tether. The constant cyclonic South Gippsland wind forcefully shoved me around the farm as if I were a rag doll. I was feeling scattered and annoyed and I'd had enough. This day I hurriedly tended to my necessary chores and decided I would spend the afternoon inside our cosy four walls, hoping no farm emergencies would rear their ugly heads from left field. I would bake a cake.

As I began diligently and happily gathering ingredients from within my much-loved kitchen, I turned on the television to enjoy some background company. My mischievous fluff balls were asleep and all was quiet as I attempted a new recipe to surprise a dear friend on her birthday. An American movie had just commenced, starring Richard Dreyfuss. It was named, 'Mr. Holland's Opus' and by the appearance of the film and cast, it wore some age.

Initially concentrating on my cake, I began watching the unfolding story through my peripheral vision. Soon I was taking intermittent pauses, then baked mostly during advert breaks. This movie touched the sensitivity of my core. I was mesmerised and in tears numerous times. The tale was beautiful, inspiring, heart-warming and gut-wrenching. It spoke to my soul in meaningful symbols, I'm sure urging it to awaken and remember.

The lovely expressed narrative told of a young, passionate musician, who reluctantly accepted a high school teaching position to support his family. Sadly his only child was born deaf and needed expensive, health and educational services to be given the chance to achieve the highest possible quality of life. This left minimal, personal time for the talented musician to realise his dream of completing a symphony composition; a desire he had craved since his early teenage years.

Commencing his new appointment, the teacher's students were initially uninterested and bored with his knowledgeable, but mechanical and bland curriculum. Feeling disheartened, his supportive wife suggested her husband soul-search his own passionate motivation towards his infinite love for music. This act proved life changing and he excitedly began teaching his powerful insights to his students, urging them to learn, sing and play their chosen instruments inspired by the substance of their honest and raw, wise hearts.

This enlightenment had a major impact on the pupils and, with guidance and role-modelling, filtered through to all channels of their lives. Over the years, many thrived when hope was lost. Many ventured into successful, fulfilling careers. Some became famous and some sadly succumbed to war. Mutual respect and admiration was the seed and guiding force of the student/teacher relationship and lives changed for the better. Pupils were taught to strive to be the best versions of themselves they could possibly be, while the film simultaneously portrayed the teacher, in his husband and father roles, struggle through his own personal issues and challenges - all the while chipping spasmodically away at his aspiring symphony when precious time allowed.

Three decades on, the admired music teacher was forced into retirement through mandatory, government, school cutbacks. The final decision was announced all creative art subjects would become obsolete. A heroic battle against red tape was fought by the frustrated, devastated teacher to sadly no avail.

I watched the sentimental tutor pack up his beloved teaching room and meet his wife and adult son in the corridor. Together they sombrely proceeded towards the main entrance of the building one final time. Suddenly musical notes were heard loud and clear sounding from the nearby auditorium. Surprised, the teacher turned and headed towards the beckoning door, and upon opening, was greeted by a crowded hall filled with former and present clapping students; some he hadn't laid eyes on in years.

One particular pupil, now a successful senator, stood on stage equipped to broadcast to the enthusiastic crowd. She was once a young, shy teenager, trying desperately to embrace the clarinet. Each of her family members thrived with musical talents, yet no matter how much she willingly practised, she failed to improve - until she met Mr. Holland.

This lovely, confident woman spoke well and addressed the audience by reminding them their beloved mentor had an unfulfilled dream of publishing his own, unique symphony. She continued by asking Mr. Holland to look around the room and to realise and acknowledge, although he may not yet have completed his dream, the absolute difference he made to each and every soul in the auditorium, and with that, the thunderous applause was deafening.

Mr. Holland was completely overwhelmed with emotion and if that didn't floor him, the stage curtain suddenly drew open to display a spectacular sight. Two scholars from each year he taught assembled to form an orchestra. Every instrument you could think of was cradled by beaming pupils, all ready to emit heartfelt, rehearsed chords.

The senator endearingly offered the speechless Mr. Holland a baton and asked him if he would be kind enough to conduct the eager instrumentalists as they played 'his' symphony. In disbelief and before he could answer, the senator gave him a kiss on the cheek, took her place on stage and picked up her clarinet. The brilliant movie ended as the orchestra sounded like a band of angels, conducted by the experienced hand of an overwhelmed Mr. Holland, who glowed proudly, blissfully and teary-eyed…

My heart overflowed with happiness for this man. The tears streamed down my face as I 'felt' him. For goodness sake, this was a movie and here I was completely engrossed in the moment as if I was living it ... and why was I really crying? Was it because I was so overjoyed for this man, or was I subconsciously envious of him? Was I in tears because I questioned whether I had accomplished something meaningful and worthy in my life, or had I missed my boat completely?! Had I realised my dreams? What are my dreams? Did they become buried under the busyness of life? Are they dormant, waiting patiently (or impatiently), like a genie in a bottle ready to be released to rejoice freedom? These questions are presently playing starring roles within my internal screenplay, while I go about my daily norm. The thoughts swirling around in my mind have made life suddenly more intriguing and colorful.

The lessons and insights this particular movie promoted are invaluable reminders for us all, for example, sometimes we may feel we've failed to follow our desired path, but perhaps the path we're on is our true path! Or never underestimate the ripple effects of our actions, even if we believe they're insignificant. They could make a world of difference to the recipient, unbeknown to us. We benefit by listening to and acting from our wise hearts, as it's our truth. Hold onto dreams not yet realised. When the time is right, blossoming opportunities may present when we least expect it. Choose wisely, as every action creates a reaction with either a pleasing or a bitter-tasting consequence, and lastly, most importantly, love is everything.

This man's story impacted me greatly by stirring my essence in a powerful way, inspiring abundant food for thought. Raising deep emotions within, I did not stop thinking about this film for two consecutive days. I'm excited to see if and how I creatively infuse this remembered awareness into my humble existence. Surely there is a reason I happened to be in the right place at the right time to catch this movie, which touched my soul so significantly. I was also happily relieved my prolonged cake turned out delicious and appreciated, as I'm not known for my cooking skills. The profound reminders I absorbed during my escape from the wind must have subconsciously motivated heartfelt baking, proving the teacher's theory authentic. The real challenge now is to keep this feeling alive and within the forefront of mind and heartl ...