What Backsliding in Piano Meant for Me

I had started in piano in 2010, when I was still quite a little urchin not even knowing much English. I progressed rather quickly; I was able to play “Fur Elise” in less than a year.

When I was just a two-year-old pianist, my piano teacher strongly suggested that I enter in a piano contest. I came out of it as the second place. A year later, I entered in another, but I gave up on advancing after the second round.

However, by and by I became too lazy—too lazy to practice my piano repertoire. I still practiced some hymns, but they are too easy to keep my piano level. This would not have happened if I had not cancelled my piano lessons. Though the excuse was that both my piano teacher and I were too busy, I should have known better that regardless of how busy I was, I should always make time for piano and take classes with other teachers.

This situation continued on,

… and on,

… and on.

I was hopelessly backslidden.

That is, until one year.

That year was the magic year 2018.

I was in middle school, and I met the violin for the first time in my life.

Now, if I had been subservient to any other violin teacher I would never have loved violin. In fact, I might be hopelessly doomed to never loving music once in my entire life. Providence dictated, however, that I would not meet such a teacher.

The teacher, whose name here should remain anonymous, took me from the first lesson in the first year to the last lesson in the last year of the program, and in laughter and smiles was this accomplished.

During this time, I became determined to improve on my piano skills once more. However, when I find myself seated in front of the scores I used to play many, many years ago, I found that I lost something.

“Techniques?” you might ask.

Actually, with more practice they are all going to come back to me.

What I lost the most is my courage to play—courage to pick up the scores and learn it again.

That was what kept me from practicing them all these years. The more I forgot how to play a piece, the more afraid I was to pick it up, and the more I forgot how to play it.

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