“I used to play the _____, and I wish I hadn’t quit.”
I’ve heard that so many times, and always encouraged people to start again. Most people would smile and shake their head. Maybe they just didn’t have time. Or maybe they were afraid it would be hard, and in frustration they would feel like a failure.
Safer not to try?
I understand this so well.
Life handed me a few years without music. There was just not enough freedom or energy. Some seasons of life you just keep going and wait and hope.
When I finally had the energy and space, it still took a long time to tentatively try to play again. The fear was real. My hands were weak. I had no callouses. I didn’t enjoy the music. The deep inspiration that drove me to play decades ago seemed to have left forever.
This is when it takes courage, determination and patience. I hope you won’t say to yourself, “I must be as good as I used to be or it’s not worth trying.”
Your hands will not be as young. Your brain will not be either! But that doesn’t mean it is too hard or of no value for you. It just means you have to approach the relearning with love towards yourself, and appreciation for the ways you are growing.
The fact that I had decided: “I will do this,” forced me to keep going when I got discouraged. I solidly rejected the inner critics. I didn’t feel the music yet. I just worked on playing the harp even though it felt lifeless for a long time.
If you have been through trauma, maybe you know this kind of absence of joy. You go through the motions, hoping there is something in the phrase “Fake it until you make it”.
You can also nurture your feelings, like tending a tiny flame. Celebrate each sign of progress. Allow yourself to love what you are doing and avoid comparisons to the past or other musicians. Little by little, my spirit is returning. I have started writing music again after many years away. I can once again sit down and just improvise for a long time, letting ideas flow.
I know I will never be “as good as I used to be”, but I don’t need to be. It is so pleasant to play simple music. I have no more audiences to please, so I am finally learning to play for myself. Those complicated sonatas and wildly difficult concert pieces I used to labor over? It is no longer a goal I care about. It’s a huge relief to let all that go. It’s not giving up, or giving in. I’m choosing what is of value for me.
Have you returned to music after a long absence? I’d love to hear your story. If you’re considering it, I hope you will find a way to start again.
