ok, yeah… I lied. (sorry, couldn’t resist!)
I do have one regret: that I didn’t keep taking piano lessons when I was a wee little whippersnapper. Or as a teenager. Or in college. Or in my 30s. *sigh*
When I hear the magical notes of delectable piano music, my fingers tingle, my heart-beat deepens, and all my dreams seem possible — the same feeling I get when I simply *must* write.
Yet when I finally get to those black and white keys, I’m limited by my lack of skill. Expression gets thwarted. I get frustrated. The piano again becomes a tease, a reminder of what could have been. Curses!
But you know what? Virtuoso or not (um, definitely NOT!) turns out I learned something profoundly important during those few young years of lessons (thank you, piano teacher Mom!).
I learned how to control each hand separately.
[… stick with me here…]
How to have one hand coax the keys to whisper while the other forced them to shout.
And to switch them … *snap*… just like that.
A full life requires that skill:
– That ability to dance lightly while still keeping a solid rhythm.
– To hold some things close while letting others go.
– To gently wrap clear determination in the silky essence of allowing.
If we spend all our time pushing, driving toward that *whatever* we’re trying so desperately to reach, we will likely plow right on past what we are Supposed To see and experience and do and be.
So you see, we need the push and the allowing, the ying and the yang.
We need to give both hands a chance.
[text and photos by Starla J. King]
Another great read on this topic is Peg Mulqueen’s recent post, “Trust Yourself” — she definitely gives both hands a chance!