I began attempting to learn guitar (again) about two months ago. I opted for the free route: watching multiple YouTube videos and making my friends be my teachers.
Now, I’m no Hendrix, believe it or not, but I am a musician, something I did not classify myself as for the first 20 years of my life. I love the fact that I’m creating music. I love that I’m the one making a beautiful sound. I know that sounds cheesy, but it adds a new dimension to me. I no longer have to say I’m not musical.
This new dimension has spurred me to have an enormous amount of respect for musicians. Last week, I watched in awe as a violinist moved his fingers rapidly from string to string. My thoughts switched to when I play my guitar and how difficult it is for me to transition from chord to chord at a fraction that the violinist was. Never before had I paid attention to the intricate placements of a string player’s fingers. I can’t imagine how long it took for that piece to be created or how many hours it took for him to perfect it.
Learning the guitar has made me realize that I am not limited to what I have always done. Just because I was not musical for my first 20 years of life does not mean I can’t start now. If I let my past define my future, the rest of my life will be extremely redundant.
And I’d much rather have a life of adding adjectives.