10,000 hours?

10,000 hours is the magical number that one needs in practice hours to become adept on a musical instrument, or so the research states. When Covid-19 struck,  I made the trek back from Myrtle Beach earlier than usual, it only took me a couple of months to have the 'aha' moment to return to something I knew I always would get back to. Music. I took a couple of years of guitar lessons and a couple of years of piano lessons in my 20's but aside from that, no other formal training.  I gave my piano to the grandees so it just made sense to resume my journey with the guitar which would be like starting as a beginner again. After all, it's been well over 35 years since I really touched it and being that when I started, I was taking courses, raising kids, working, managing a single household and finding the time to devote to practice was limited. I am that person that needs time to devote and not limited time.  I pulled my guitar out of the darkness, added some new strings and within a few weeks, I was attempting to pluck those string. It wasn't pretty, I had pretty much forgotten everything. I will say, that did cause me some frustration.

What remained, however, was the fact that I was motivated, enthusiastic and prepared to work hard and
practice lots to learn to play which was a lifelong desire. AND, now I have time. 

Let me take you back. From my youngest of years, I always wanted to learn music and learn ballet, I got a plastic guitar one Christmas when I was 6 or 7 and was over the moon. I also got a table top organ when I was 10, I worked through the two books that came with it and my mom got a few more books, the thirst for learning was there, the devotion, unfortunately, no lessons and I could only take myself so far as a motivated kiddo. Just a fact of the times.  Then, my sisters who were much younger, got piano and a teacher who taught them. By this time I was 13 and embarrassed about starting as a beginner with my sisters. Instead, when they came home, I went through their lesson material and began once again to self teach. My sisters didn't last too long and that was the end of me keeping up with piano. 

The desire to play an instrument tucked away and not so much of a priority as my family life began and which makes for busier times and minimal time for self indulgence. Although the attempt was made in my 20s, the truth is, I always felt that I was stealing time away from my kids, or my marking or planning for work or from staying on top of household duties. I knew quite well, I wasn't a natural and learning an instrument would take a very serious commitment to it. I could not justify taking the time.

So, why not when I first retired? Well, along came golf, reading catch up, writing for my site and the Carolinas. So, instead, it took Covid for me to realize, the time had come to resume the desire to learn to play an instrument.

Despite, degenerative disc disease and aches and pains, I propelled myself into learning to play fingerstyle guitar on my own. This time, it's different - the world of music online has a wealth of music and videos to guide my learning. I now have everything I needed, intense desire, a strong practice ethic and TIME. I won't say it's coming to me easily, it is a lot of work, I love to practice but I need to practice in smaller increments of time to avoid 'getting old issues'.  My site is suffering but I'm loving the practice time.  I call it 'my journey without destination'.  Why? Well, there are pieces I would love to play that are completely out of my reach currently so, where I land will always be a mystery.

A word about the photo: My Covid Corner is a bedroom I converted to a music room, I bought the funky musician's stool thinking with all of the adjustments to the back rest, the seat and the foot rest, that it would help with the degenerative disc disease, however, 10 months later, I decided to sell it. I needed a better set up. Not sure what that looks like yet and for the time being, I am using the sofa.

Officially a Senior Citizen

 When I reached the milestones of 30, 40, 50 and 60, it didn't much matter, I always felt the decade that one became officially 'old' so to speak was 80. For some reason 80 just sounds old, despite the fact, that to those individuals who are decades younger than me, I AM OLD. Ha ha, again, you're only as old as you feel so why let a number get in the way? Well, indeed that's my mantra and I'm sticking to it. 

Five or 6 years ago, on one of my first winters in Myrtle Beach when I was a relatively new golfer, I was at Whispering Pines driving range. As I was leaving the course, a fellow driving away, stopped and asked if I scared away all the men, ha ha, there were quite a few when I came to the range but as I left, none were left. Maybe I did scare them away with my crazy swing!! I proceeded to ask the fellow leaving the course, how is game was. He said, actually pretty good, I didn't quite shoot my age but it's the closest I've been. He then proceeded to tell me he was 92 and shot 94. I let him know how impressive it was and told him there was hope for me. So there you go, it's just a number. Shooting my age? Good grief, that's just a fantasy.

This year, the girls decorated up the golf cart and the day couldn't have been a better one for a birthday round. Thanks, Linda, Karen and Carol. Definitely a fun round!

It has been far too long since I have posted, Covid has been around for over a year and a half and has taken a tremendous bite out of family time and gatherings. Will things ever return to the norm? That post remains for a bit yet as I think about it. 

In the meantime, 65 is here and I'll embrace it readily.