write
I took my very first piano lesson this week. And I haven’t stopped grinning since.
I’d like to say my fingers danced effortlessly across the keys, keeping perfect rhythm and never missing a note. But, that’s not exactly how it went. The reality is I sounded much more like a six-year-old. (My apologies for any six-year-old prodigies out there.)
Music has always been in my blood. Whether it was listening to music on my Sony Walkman Cassette player, or singing at the top of my lungs on long car trips. I was in our church choir, school choir and show choir. I’ve been in multiple musical productions, including one in 2nd grade when I had my first center stage solo, in the 8th grade musical, much to my parents shock! I competed in countless solo ensemble competitions throughout high school as well. To say I came into this world singing might be an understatement! (even if it sounded like screaming, I promise I was just practicing breathing exercises!)
And because of my love of singing, I remember always wanting to learn to play the piano. This is a little difficult when one does not own a piano, so my parents sprung for years of voice lessons instead, and an electric keyboard. I was super excited to teach myself. But while I could read music well enough, that didn’t always translate to ‘playing’ music.
In many ways, if you are a singer that can't play an instrument, it's much like being a writer that doesn't know how to type. There’s generally a broad understanding of how to put things together, melody and rhythm, paragraphs and sentences. But for me, there has always been a missing link between fully connecting with music and understanding the mechanics behind it. I never could transfer my head knowledge into hand aptitude.
I love the fact all four of my children are musically adept. They all have played instruments; some continue to do so. They have been in concert band, marching band and jazz band. They’ve competed in all-state auditions, and performed at Walt Disney World, Chicago and even Carnegie Hall. Between my kids, they have learned to play the recorder (hasn’t every parent endured those years?!), saxophone, trumpet, guitar, drum lessons start in a couple weeks, and… piano.
Three years ago my youngest son asked if he could take piano lessons. I was ecstatic. We didn't have a piano in the house, but much like when I was a child, we did have an electric keyboard; a pretty decent Yamaha, one with over 600 sounds and 200 preprogrammed songs. I figured he could learn on that to start, to see if investing in a piano was wise. After finding an amazing piano teacher, we quickly discovered he had quite a talent.
I'd sit in the other room listening to my son adamantly practice, pounding out notes while learning at a rapid rate. While I have always been very proud of him, if I’m being honest, there’s been a part of me that wished it was me in there learning to play. Of course I had a million excuses why it wasn’t:
He's younger.
He'll learn faster.
I am too busy.
I have other responsibilities.
Who am I kidding? It’s too late for me.
I even made a mental compromise that if we ever had an actual piano, then I would invest in piano lessons for me. Well, we've had a piano at our house for over year now and my son has continued to thrive while I continued to sit idly by.
That is, until, this past week. What was once envy of my budding pianist, turned to inspiration. I lost my excuses and replaced them with affirmations. Why not me? Why not now? It’s not too late to learn a new skill, start a new hobby or pursue a dream.
“Do it now. Sometimes ‘later’ becomes ‘never’.”
As a parent, it’s important to model for my children the very idea of never giving up on your dreams. It’s all too easy to let life get in the way of passion. To cloud our existence with excuses. To have our deepest desires drowned in deceit.
As kids we are told to dream big and reach for the stars; but as adults we often settle. It's easy to do that; get stuck in a rut with no apparent or easy way out. Just stuck. That is, until the six-year-old inside helps you dig yourself out. Kids are nothing, if not persistent, resilient and defiant. Sometimes, it behooves us to listen to our inner child because they have not forgotten about their dreams.
I’m 46 years old, learning to play the piano for the first time. I’m nervous and excited. I’ll get frustrated with every missed note, and bored with the remedial music theory book work. But I’ll also be fulfilling a childhood desire and a passion, and my inner six-year-old is turning cartwheels.
So dinner may be late from time to time and laundry may pile up. I may miss a call or a text or the latest social media video. But I'm OK with that because the child and musician in me has much to learn, and there are eighty-eight keys waiting expectantly to be played.
What is it you want to learn, experience, try? What’s stopping you?
