Music Returns?

I can't pinpoint just when the music went away.

It started drifting away after the kids left home for college. I still sang with Musica Sacra, but somewhere in there, quit playing piano.

By the time my dream trip was abruptly cancelled, and I started getting back on my feet after cancer treatment, music was gone. Even after I moved into my current house, almost eight years ago, and got my piano back from the friends who stored it for me when I had no space for it, the instrument was mute.

The piano is certainly a presence in my space - it's a grand piano, and takes up a sizeable chunk of my living room real estate. But I've been walking around it for years. I've gotten it tuned occasionally. I sometimes stop to run a hand along the curve of the sound box, just to enjoy the tactile sensation of the smooth wood. I've even thought, once in a while, about getting rid of it, but that thought's never gained serious traction. 

I've held onto it. But. I haven't played it.

Until just this last week.

For reasons I don't yet understand, the desire to make music started stirring in my heart shortly after the inauguration. As part of my campaign to figure out (again) what I want to do when I grow up, I've been trying to listen to what I'm trying to tell me these days.

So.

I got the piano tuned. (first things first...)

After the tuner left, I dug through my music cabinet, pulled out a yellowing book, and sat down to play a once-loved piece. Clearly, taking a decade or so off from playing doesn't do much for skill levels. I couldn't even begin to make it come together. *sigh*

But rather than give up, I dug through the cabinet again, looking for some basic skills books. Sadly, I came up empty.

But rather than give up, I called my longtime friend, Lisa, who taught lessons to my kids, and asked her for recommendations. She had some books on her shelf she was happy to loan me, and I went and picked them up late last week. She was also kind enough to give me some pointers on how to get started.

Now, when I sit down to try to play, I have more luck. I have even made some progress. The notes that were tentative and uneven that first night have already begun to smooth themselves out a bit.

Oddly enough, somewhere in there, while my active mind has lost the ability to read both the left and the right hand staffs simultaneously, my unconscious mind still has the skill. If I can get into a zen state, I can play some simple compositions. The minute I try to think about the music, it's one hand or the other, not both. I presume this, too, shall pass. Hopefully - it's disconcerting.

I've been trying to play each day for about thirty minutes - long enough to make a little progress, not enough time to get overly frustrated with myself - and wonder of wonders, the music has begun to return. 

As I play, something inside loosens a bit, unwinds, relaxes, breathes. Tears rise, and sometimes fall, but they are good tears, healing tears. I think I've missed the music more than I knew. 

I'm glad it's thinking about returning, I hope it will stay.