On Ambition: Realising Our Dreams

The recent sudden unexpected death of a lovely young woman brought to mind the advice of the music professor when I was at university: he was speaking to a young cellist whose parents were concerned that she would never make a living as a musician. “They say I have to think about what I’m going to be when I finish my education,” she said. But all she wanted to do was play the cello. The professor told her: “Suppose you fall under a bus tomorrow: then it won’t be question of what you’re going to be, but of what you have been.” Music gave her joy, he said, it gave others joy to hear her play, where then was the harm in studying music?

            Ambition comes in many forms. Ignatius Loyola had military ambition: he wanted to win fame and glory on the battlefield. What he got was a severe wound that laid him up at home for a long time with nothing to read but the lives of the saints. Ignatius had to confront the idea that there is more than one kind of glory, and he could still win some of that, but not for himself. He changed his ambition, and spent the rest of his life seeking God’s glory.

            Maybe our youthful ambitions are the most valuable, as long as they lead to consistent action. As an adult student, I heartily wish I’d spent the hours of piano practice that were open to me with my earlier teachers. Even if I had the time and strength, the loss of those earlier hours would always set me back in what’s possible for me to learn now. Something called life tends to intervene. But even when it doesn’t, and skills have developed and careers brought to pass, all worldly enterprises fall apart eventually. What then are suitable ambitions when we’re older?

            The professor’s advice holds good at any age. It won’t be what we’re going to be, but what we have been. Some persons have had the ambition to build a church to stop a plague. Too many have wanted to kill all their enemies. Some who have wanted to win a million dollars have seriously regretted it when they did win.

            The professor thought it was good to do what gives joy. Beauty, harmony, love and attention give joy to others as well as oneself. Even in a small way, every day, we can build happiness within and around us through acts of beauty and mercy and kindness. We could have the ambition to reflect God’s glory through what we have been, rather than trailing regrets and lost causes behind us. Even if no one remembers, we have been part of the music, in the time of the music whose notes were sweet for as long as they lasted, sounding somewhere in the ear of God.