For as long as I can remember, playing classical piano has been a too-easy way for me to brand myself as an impressive individual. To the point where I was embarrassed by the branding power of music in general and stopped playing all instruments for about 2 years (early college). I've come to terms with it since then, but I am realizing now that I never really resumed practicing piano. And unlike tennis, where I can (surprisingly) stop playing for an indefinite amount of time and pick up right where I left off, I am realizing that the songs that used to come so easily are fading away.
Last weekend at my roommate's mother's house, I was asked to play the dusty old piano and I sat down assuming I'd be able to play just as I always could. However, 3 aborted songs later, I gave up and admitted defeat. It was kind of embarrassing.
Today, waiting for my shuttle with 15 minutes to kill, I noticed a baby grand piano in one of the lobbies that I hadn't seen before. It seemed empty so I walked in and started playing to pass the time. A bunch of co-workers passed through the lobby over the next few minutes, and I was just as unimpressive as I was over the weekend, stumbling through my songs, stopping and starting awkwardly. My fingers feel like clubs.
I used to have very structured approaches to things, in high school. I had piano lessons once a week, and at least tried to practice once every few days. I had tennis practice every day after school. I took jazz lessons on guitar once a week too. It's strange how that approach made those things so unpleasant in some ways, yet I was never better at tennis or piano or guitar than I was back then, when I enjoyed them least.
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