WHEN LIFE INTERRUPTS THE MUSIC; Series 3
Finding Yourself in the Interruption
Sometimes, life takes you somewhere you never planned to go—and in that unfamiliar place, you begin to discover a different version of yourself.
There are seasons when you think you understand the next chapter of your life.
You have a plan. You know what you are good at. You know what you want to do.
You may even have a clear picture of how you expect the journey to unfold.
Then an opportunity comes along, and suddenly, everything changes.
Some years ago, I had an opportunity to begin something new outside my home country.
I went with the expectation that music would remain at the centre of what I was doing.
After all, music had been such a significant part of my life.
It was familiar. It was what I knew. It was where I had experience, confidence, and a sense of identity.
But life had a different arrangement.
I found myself having to do things that were not related to music at all.
It was unfamiliar territory.
And, for a period, I struggled with it.
When What You Do No Longer Matches Who You Think You Are
There is something uncomfortable about finding yourself in an environment where your previous experience does not seem to carry the same weight.
You know what you can do. You know what you have accomplished. You know the areas where you are confident.
But suddenly, you are doing something completely different. You are learning new things. Starting from unfamiliar ground. Adjusting to a different environment. Trying to understand new expectations.
And somewhere in that process, a question can begin to emerge:
“Who am I now?”
I experienced some of that.
For years, music had given me a strong sense of identity. I knew what I was doing when I was teaching. I knew what I was doing when I was leading musicians. I knew what I was doing behind the piano. I knew how to communicate musical ideas. I knew how to develop people musically.
But being placed in situations outside that familiar world challenged me differently. There were things I had to learn from the beginning. There were situations where I was not the expert. There were moments when my previous musical identity did not provide an immediate answer.
And that was humbling.
The Unfamiliar Can Be a Classroom
At first, it can be tempting to think:
“This has nothing to do with my purpose.”
I could have easily looked at those experiences as interruptions—something outside the path I believed I was supposed to be following.
But with the benefit of hindsight, I now see them differently. They were not wasted years. They were capacity-building years.
I was developing abilities that I did not realise I would eventually need.
I was learning how to adapt.
- How to communicate with different kinds of people.
- How to function in unfamiliar environments.
- How to handle responsibilities outside my comfort zone.
- How to observe before assuming.
- How to learn from people who had different experiences from mine.
- How to work through uncertainty.
- How to remain useful even when I was not operating from my strongest area.
Those lessons eventually became part of the person I brought back into music.
I Was Learning More Than I Realised
Sometimes growth is happening while we are busy wondering why we are not where we expected to be.
That season taught me that not every valuable experience will look relevant at the time you are experiencing it.
Some lessons need time before their relevance becomes obvious.
The communication skills I developed became useful in leadership.
The adaptability I developed became useful in music education.
The patience I learned became useful in mentoring.
The understanding of people became useful in relationships.
The experience of navigating unfamiliar environments influenced how I approached family and responsibility.
The ability to function outside my comfort zone helped me become more flexible as a professional.
In other words, I wasn’t simply doing something unrelated to music.
I was becoming a person who could approach music differently.
Capacity Is Often Built Outside Your Main Skill
This is one of the lessons I wish more people understood.
We often focus on developing the skill that defines our profession.
A musician practises music.
A teacher studies teaching.
A businessperson learns business.
A leader studies leadership.
But sometimes, the capacity you need most is developed somewhere else.
A musician may need communication skills.
A teacher may need emotional intelligence.
A leader may need patience.
A business owner may need resilience.
A parent may need adaptability.
A creative person may need discipline.
And these qualities are not always developed in the places where we expect to find them.
Sometimes life takes us outside our speciality precisely because we need to develop something beyond our speciality.
I Had to Become Comfortable Being Uncomfortable
Being unfamiliar with something can affect your confidence.
When you are accustomed to being competent, being a beginner again can be uncomfortable.
You may find yourself asking questions you would normally be expected to answer.
You may make mistakes.
You may need help.
You may have to observe others.
You may discover that your previous achievements do not automatically make you excellent in a new environment.
But there is humility in being a learner.
And there is strength in admitting:
“I don’t know this yet, but I can learn.”
That mindset became important to me. It helped me understand that competence is not only about knowing what to do.
Sometimes, competence is knowing how to learn what you don’t know.
The Experience Changed How I See Leadership
My understanding of leadership became broader.
Previously, it was easy to associate leadership with directing people toward a goal.
But unfamiliar experiences taught me what it feels like to be the person who is learning, adjusting, and depending on others for understanding.
That perspective matters.
A leader who has never been a learner may struggle to understand the vulnerability of those they lead.
But when you have experienced being outside your comfort zone, you may become more patient with someone else’s learning process.
You begin to understand why people need encouragement.
Why mistakes can be part of development.
Why correction should not destroy confidence.
Why people sometimes need someone to believe in them before they believe in themselves.
These lessons have influenced how I approach mentoring and music education.
It Changed the Way I See Relationships
Living and working outside my familiar environment also gave me a different perspective on people.
You discover that people can have completely different ways of communicating, working, thinking, and responding.
You learn that what seems obvious to you may not be obvious to someone else.
You learn to ask questions. You learn to listen. You learn not to assume.
And those are not merely professional skills. They are relationship skills.
They matter in marriage, parenting, friendship, leadership, and in music.
In fact, the more I have learned about music, the more convinced I have become that good musicianship requires many of the same qualities that healthy relationships require—listening, awareness, timing, sensitivity, communication, and adjustment.
I Returned With More Than I Left With
When I eventually looked back at that season, I realised something.
I had gone into it thinking primarily about what I would do.
I came out of it with a deeper understanding of who I was becoming.
That distinction changed my perspective.
I didn’t simply return with professional experience. I returned with life experience.
I had developed capacity. I had seen things from another perspective. I had experienced unfamiliar responsibilities. I had learned from environments outside my normal world.
And all of that became part of how I approached music, leadership, mentoring, relationships, and family.
The interruption had changed the musician because it had changed the person.
Perhaps the Season Was Not Taking Me Away
This is something I think about often.
When we are in an unfamiliar season, we can easily assume we are moving away from our purpose.
But what if we are actually being prepared for a broader expression of it?
What if the experience we are calling a detour is developing something we will need later?
What if the season that feels unrelated is actually expanding our capacity?
What if the pause is not removing us from the journey but preparing us for the next movement?
I cannot say that every difficult experience has a predetermined purpose.
But I can say that we can choose to learn from our experiences rather than allowing them to become wasted seasons.
That choice matters.
Don’t Waste Your Unfamiliar Season
If you are currently doing something that seems unrelated to what you believe you are called to do, don’t be too quick to dismiss the experience.
Pay attention.
What is it teaching you? Are you becoming more disciplined? More adaptable? More patient? More observant? More compassionate? More resourceful? More confident in unfamiliar environments? Are you learning how people think? Are you learning how organisations function? Are you learning how to manage pressure? Are you learning how to communicate? Are you developing skills that your current profession may eventually need?
You may not see the connection today.
But that does not mean there isn’t one.
The Music Was Still There
Interestingly, even when I was doing things outside music, music had not disappeared from me.
The experience was simply changing the way I understood it.
I began to appreciate that being a musician is not only about playing an instrument.
It is also about how you think.
How you listen, relate, solve problems, how you respond when things do not go according to plan, how you lead, teach, adapt, communicate.
The music was still there.
I was simply hearing it differently.
What That Season Taught Me
Looking back, I would summarise the lessons this way:
- An unfamiliar season is not necessarily a wasted season.
- Your current role does not completely define your identity.
- Capacity can be developed outside your primary field.
- Being a beginner again can build humility and adaptability.
- Life experiences can reshape how you lead and mentor others.
- What you learn about people can become as valuable as what you learn about your profession.
- Sometimes, life expands you before it expands your platform.
And perhaps the most important lesson for me:
“Some seasons may take you outside the music, but they can still prepare you to make better music, lead better, mentor better, and live better.”— Victor Adenola
A Reflection for You
Maybe you are in an unfamiliar place right now.
Maybe you are doing work that has nothing to do with what you studied.
Maybe you are building a business while waiting for another opportunity.
Maybe your career has taken an unexpected turn.
Maybe you have moved to a new environment.
Maybe you are carrying responsibilities you never planned for.
Maybe you are wondering whether you have lost your way.
Before you conclude that the season is wasted, pause and ask:
“What capacity is this season building in me?”
You may not have chosen the classroom.
You may not have chosen the lesson.
You may not even understand its relevance yet.
But don’t leave the classroom empty-handed.
- Learn
- Observe
- Adapt
- Grow
Because one day, you may look back and realise that the season you thought had taken you away from your purpose was actually preparing you to approach your purpose with greater depth.
Coming Next — Series 4: Returning With a Different Perspective
After experiencing unfamiliar places, changed responsibilities, difficult decisions, and seasons of personal growth, returning to what you love can feel different.
You don’t return as the same person who left.
In Series 4, I reflect on what it means to return to music, leadership, relationships, and purpose with a different perspective—and why sometimes the goal is not to go back, but to move forward with what the journey has taught you.
#art #churchchoir #commitment #consistency #courage #creativity #CulturalAwareness #EmotionalWellBeing #Intentionality #mindfulness #music #musicians #Passion #Purpose #Victoradenola