My grandma taught me piano basics. I spent countless hours through the years piddling around on her piano and my keyboard, teaching myself to play popular songs by ear, learning to sight read, and attempting duets with my cousins at Christmas.
I always wanted to play the violin, but I guess it was too expensive to pursue when I was kid, so I kept piddling with the piano. Then I started experimenting with the guitar. I took a couple formal lessons on guitar but the instructor made me uncomfortable so I quit. It never occurred to me to request a different teacher.
This entire experiment with musical instruments was backed by my involvement in choir and musical theater. I used to sing a lot with my cousin, who is an excellent vocalist. I really miss doing that, but c’est la vie.
In college I took exactly one semester of guitar and one semester of piano. That was when I decided that guitar was just not for me. I felt lucky that I passed that class and I’m honestly not sure how I did because I remember nothing about it. Piano, on the other hand, made sense. My professor told me I should’ve taken an intermediate level class instead of beginner and part of me agreed, but the other part of me was happy to be re-learning music and piano basics and rebuilding that foundation.
Then I graduated. I had my beautiful acoustic guitar but I had given my keyboard away years ago. I have no idea why. I always had it in the back of my mind that someday I would buy a decent piano and learn how to play some proper songs.
Fast forward to the Covid stimulus checks. I made up my mind and bought a decent keyboard off of Facebook marketplace and piano sheet music from Lindsey Stirling, one of my favorite musicians – and guess what she plays? Violin! And now we’re coming back around to the beginning…
I messaged piano teachers. I polled the audience. I got a recommendation from a family member and here we are.
Last Thursday I met my piano teacher and had my first official lesson. Everything I thought I had forgotten about music floated back to me. I’m rusty, yes, but I’m showing up and choosing to learn. And why not? We only get one life on this earth. I’m thirty-two years young. It’s about time I actually learned how to play the instrument that’s always been in my life, waiting for me.
And if you don’t believe me, take a look at my dad. In his fifties he decided that since he always wanted to play the drums, he might as well learn. Next thing you know, he’s taking lessons, working at a music store, and starting his very own band. They played covers and had a decent gig lineup there for a few years until they “retired.” He doesn’t work at the music store anymore, but he still plays the drums.
Hear me when I say: It’s never too late to do what you’ve always wanted to do.
But you have to decide to do it.