I think there is something wonderfully honest about this quote from Fanny Mendelssohn. Although a remarkably gifted composer and pianist, she knew what it felt like to work hard without receiving the recognition she deserved. 

When we are young, it is natural to hope that our efforts will be noticed. We practice, we study, we create something, and we hope that someone will say, “That is wonderful!” Sometimes however, nobody says anything. Sometimes the audience is small, the teacher does not seem impressed, the competition does not go as we hoped, or the people around us simply do not understand how much effort we have put into what we are hoping to accomplish. In those moments, it is very easy to wonder whether our work has any value at all.

However, The Lightbulb Moment this week centers around one very important fact: the absence of praise does not mean the absence of value. Imagine a pianist practicing a difficult passage for weeks. Perhaps nobody hears those hours of practice. There is no applause for the hundreds of repetitions, no photograph, no prize, and no one standing beside the piano saying, “You are improving.” Yet something has changed. The fingers have become stronger, the ears more sensitive, the mind more disciplined, and the music more deeply understood. The work has transformed the person doing it, even if nobody else has noticed. This is true not only in music, but in almost everything worth pursuing. A scientist may spend years on an experiment that does not immediately succeed. A writer may spend months on a story that few people read. An athlete may train every morning while nobody is watching. The work is still meaningful. What matters is not always what the world sees; sometimes what matters most is how the work is quietly changing you.

There will also be moments when the obstacles almost seem to be telling you to stop. You may hear someone say that you are not good enough. You may compare yourself with another student who seems to succeed more easily. You may perform badly after preparing for months, or work very hard for an opportunity that never comes. These experiences can be painful, but they can also teach you something that success alone cannot teach: how to continue when encouragement disappears. There is an important difference between pursuing something because everything is going well, and pursuing it in spite of difficulties. The first requires enthusiasm; the second requires character. When you continue practicing after a disappointing performance, when you return to the piano after making mistakes, or when you keep creating even when nobody seems interested, you are developing a kind of strength that cannot be awarded with a trophy. You are learning to become responsible for your own dream.

This is why I find Fanny Mendelssohn’s words so inspiring. She did not say that it was easy to continue. She simply recognized that continuing itself could be a sign of something valuable within her. The most important truth is realizing that you cannot allow other people's reactions to determine whether your own efforts are worthwhile. Praise is wonderful when it comes, and criticism can sometimes teach us something important, but neither should become the reason we continue. You must learn to continue because you believe there is something worth discovering on the other side of the difficulty. There may be days when nobody applauds, nobody notices, and nobody understands. On those days, you must become your own encouragement. Keep practicing. Keep learning. Keep searching. Keep believing. Sometimes the road to becoming the person you hope to be begins precisely at the moment when you decide to keep playing, even though no one is listening.