New Adventures in Learning

"Learn as much as you can while you are young, since life becomes too busy later."

~ Dana Stewart Scott

Last week I made a commitment to Rusty at Newnan Music: I promised to pay in advance, be on time, practice regularly, and be patient with myself. In return, he made a commitment to teach me (old dog) to play (new trick) the beautiful, black-and-caramel-colored mandolin that my husband bought for me three Christmases ago. I think we're both a bit overly optimistic, but time will tell!

Life does become very busy as we age and as we accumulate obligations (real and imagined) in our lives that demand portions of our days, weeks and years. We have jobs in and out of our homes, some of us have children to raise, more and more have parents to care for, and many find meaningful ways to use the skills and abilities acquired when life wasn't so ... prescribed. Our hours are filled to the brim as adults: we sleep, work, love, serve, eat, cook, clean, entertain, shop, exercise, and maybe even play ... a little.

I've always had a love for music and admiration for those who could play any instrument. My dad, the first real "musician" I ever recall hearing, was an excellent guitarist - self-taught and a "by ear" kind of guy who'd often pull together a band at a moment's notice, and they'd play 'til the wee hours of the morning in our living room. Though he couldn't read or write music, if you'd hum a few bars, Dad could play virtually any song on his old Gibson accoustic guitar or his shiny, silver harmonica. Music clearly was important to him, but I don't have any evidence to suggest that he ever considered teaching me or my brothers to play an instrument or that my parents ever thought of paying for lessons for us. We had no extra money for such extravagances, but to be fair, most folks who lived around us didn't, either. Several neighbor kids joined band in high school, but that was out of the question for me because it required financial and time commitments from my parents. They didn't appreciate the value in any of it, so it was one of those early opportunities in life to say to myself "that's just how it is," and to get on with life. Over the years, my exposure was increased to different types of music, and I became partial especially to handbells in worship and to mandolin in bluegrass.

Well, God - who just happens to know all the longings of my heart - arranged a special and totally unexpected opportunity for me to learn to play handbells at my new church four years ago, and I jumped at it. It cost me time and a willingness to be teachable and vulnerable ... i.e. not good at what I was doing and probably extremely irritating to my fellow ringers. Very thankfully, they were patient and encouraging. Each time we'd ring, whether in rehearsal or performance, I'd get lost in concentration and in the sheer joy of successfully playing a note, a measure, or the majority of a song.

My thoughtful husband, having watched my delight in learning and ringing bells, and being another who makes it his business to know my heart's desires, surprised me with the mandolin. I truly was delighted to receive it, but inexplicably, three years flew by with me making excuses for why I wasn't taking lessons to learn to play it. Not having enough time and money were chief among those reasons. The start of this new year reminded me, though, that my number of years left to learn new things is dwindling, and that I want no regrets for failing to prioritize my calendar and wallet to make time for important dreams and new experiences. For now they're musical, mandolin dreams, but who knows what's next for this lifelong learner?

Yep, it probably IS much easier to learn things when we're younger because our cranial "hard drives" and our daily calendars are less cluttered. But, as long as it's not too risky, expensive or time consuming, I'm leaving the learning door wide open for new adventures. Will you join me?