This last weekend, I was blessed to attend the stage production of The Piano Teacher, written by Dorothy Dittrich ( winner of the 2022 Governor General’s Literary Award for Drama), at The Chemainus Theatre Festival, conveniently located near me, with some dear friends.

I was unsure what I was in for, having not read anything about the play before attending.

Dorothy Dittrich’s The Piano Teacher is a beautiful story that took me on an emotional journey of loss, grief, and healing. The play portrays music’s profound impact as a bridge to emotional recovery, using it as a metaphor for the inner silence and space we need to rediscover ourselves.

Through the story of a piano teacher (Elaine) and her student (Erin, who herself has experienced the loss of her husband and son), I witnessed how healing begins when we truly listen to music, each other, and what lies beyond our thoughts. This play masterfully captures the transition from grieving to reconnecting with life, all while illustrating the quiet wisdom we all have access to.

One of the core messages in The Piano Teacher aligns beautifully with the simple coaching principles that we are alive, we are aware we are alive, and we think. Just as the play emphasizes the healing found in the space between musical notes, the Three Principles teach us that our innate wisdom and creativity emerge in the quiet of our minds when we step away from the noise of thought.

In the play, I heard: (quotes may not be accurate, but I hope I caught their essence).
“The notes don’t matter as much as the silence between them. That’s where the healing lives.”

This resonates deeply with the idea that healing doesn’t come from the external—music or other distractions—but from the space within ourselves when we allow our minds to settle. In coaching this understanding, this silence is where Mind, the universal intelligence, can be felt, where creativity and wisdom naturally arise. When we give ourselves permission to pause, breathe, and simply be in that space of no thought, we access the healing power beyond our personal thinking.

Dittrich also writes:
“When the music is quiet, that’s when it starts to heal. The space between the notes is where the magic happens.”

In our everyday lives, it’s easy to get caught up in the constant hum of thoughts (chronic over-thinking), like the busyness of playing music without rest. The piano teacher told us that without the space between the notes, we would not be able to hear the voice in the music. But when we allow that noise to fade and give ourselves moments of mental quiet, we realize this is where true insight and wisdom are found. Just as in music, where the pauses and spaces allow the notes to be felt more deeply, in life, our natural resilience and clarity come forward in the quiet of no thought.

Another poignant quote from the play:
“Music isn’t just something you play; it’s something you feel. You have to give it room to breathe.”

This mirrors my understanding that our experience of life is created from within. Like music, life isn’t something that happens to us; it’s something we feel from the inside-out, through Thought. And just as music needs room to breathe, we need space in our minds—free from cluttered thinking—to truly experience life, love, and connection. In this spaciousness, we reconnect with ourselves, others, and the world around us. I often reference those moments we have all experienced while in the shower. While we are relaxed, out of the blue, thoughts reach us, ideas pop in, and solutions are heard.

Thought is fluid. One moment, we are caught up in thinking that life will never be the same, and yet in another moment, we find ourselves wrapped in joy and happiness, feeling hopeful for the future. It is the nature of thought to flow. Like the clouds in the sky constantly change, so do our thoughts. As our thoughts change, so does our current reality.

The Piano Teacher also explores the themes of love, friendship, and art as essential components of healing.
“Art is what keeps us alive. It’s the thread that connects us to others, to ourselves, to something bigger.”

This beautifully ties into the principle of the universal force, the energy behind life that connects us all. When we quiet our personal thinking and become present at the moment, we feel this connection more clearly. Music, art, or relationships act as catalysts that deepen our connections, remind us of our true nature and help us return to a state of well-being.

For me, The Piano Teacher is more than a play about music or dealing with grief. It’s a profound reminder and exploration of how we all heal through silence, presence, and connection, no matter the situation or circumstances. By embracing the space within—in music and life—we allow our natural resilience and creativity to emerge. Much like the principles behind our experience, they point us toward the wisdom and health that are always present, waiting for us to notice.

The Piano Teacher, Elaine, gently pointed Erin to her music and the piano, never suggesting must-dos or have-tos. It was beautiful to witness how Erin’s life changed so naturally.

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Going to the theatre and watching the Piano Teacher was very serendipitous. This past week, I was informed that my prostate cancer is back. Yes, that sucks. I was very receptive to the play’s themes, and the dialogue resonated with me.

I am a pretty calm guy. Not too much gets me overly emotional, and at times, some people often accuse me of wearing rose-coloured glasses—that life always looks rosey, that I am a positive thinker, bypassing reality. They are half right—what’s true is that I am a thinker. The rest is up to their perspective or one’s point of view.

Early on in the game of life, I understood that thought creates my reality, my experience. Not THE REALITY (although I am wondering about that too), but my reality (small R). I realized that as my thoughts changed, so did my personal reality. The trap is to think that all one has to do is replace thoughts with thoughts one wants. “Just think positively. You will be okay.”

Do you know how hard and exhausting that can be?

Then, I realized that I had no control over the thoughts that came to me. Do you? Do you know what thought you will think next?

Crazy! Right?

So, if I don’t have control over the thoughts that come to me, what control do I have?

My subsequent realization was that I had little control. If that thought looked real in the moment, I would act as if it was. You can’t help not to. At this point, you might be wondering about free will? (For another blog or conversation)

As Syd Banks would say, we are “innocently caught up in our own thoughts, doing the best we can.”

The game changer is my realization that thought is not constant. If it’s not constant and constantly changing, then I could not trust it as an indicator of my reality or experience of Reality. Each thought holds a reality of its own. This was a rabbit hole worth exploring, and I continue to do so today and help others with that exploration.

Like the silicone baking sheet on which nothing sticks, I know we have the same capacity not to hold our thinking lightly so it can slip away. As my understanding of that deepens, less thought sticks, and I can move or navigate through life with ease, less struggle, more clarity, and peace of mind. I love coaching people how to get a feel for that.

Over these past few days, I have been pissed off, sad, mad, happy, fearful, curious, depressed, content and probably a dozen more feelings. None of it is wrong; it’s just how it works. There was a time when I might have had any of those feelings for more extended periods, but it seems nothing is really sticking other than, “We shall see.”

Please reach out if you want to learn more or ask me questions.

Please share your insights or experience with thought or thinking. I love to hear other perspectives.

Share and like this post if you have found value and know someone who might also find value.

Kind regards,