No regrets? Maybe just a few...
While getting ready for work the other morning, feeling calm and refreshed after my early morning dog walk in the sunshine and listening to Pachelbel's Canon (as you do, it calms me more), I had a thought. Because the version that I was listening to was heavily string based, it reminded me of my days learning the Violin.
Oh the dread that filled me on a Wednesday morning knowing that it was the day of my half hour lesson. The first task was getting the damn thing to school on the bus. How embarrassing it was struggling down the thin aisle, bashing most people on my way to find the very first available seat. I didn't care who I sat with, even if they smelt, just wanted to get seated.
Then, arriving at school and chucking my violin in the store cupboard (I didn't care for it much), I'd check the time of my lesson and usually purposefully forget this five seconds later so I wouldn't go. I hated it.
The scary exams, learning all those scales, the screeching of my playing as it's one of those instruments that you have to be exceptional at before it sounds good. My siblings laughter as I practiced in the other room. The constant reminders that I needed to attend orchestra (yawn). It just wasn't a pleasant experience for me.
However, listening to Canon in D Major the other morning (how civilised do I sound?), I felt a slight bit of regret. How cool would it be to have that talent? To have focused in school and actually become a good violinist so that I could get it out and just play to my delight. Something to add to my person making me a bit more interesting. I wish I had thought this at the time.
It's like anything throughout childhood and I think it happens with many of us. I was heavily involved in girls football, part of most sports teams too. If I were to be asked what my hobbies were, I could list and list until the listener was bored. I was involved in so much, but then I grew up and I'd quit most of it by sixteen.
Now at twenty-two part of me wishes I'd continued certain things. Mum did always say I should and as always Mum was right.
Oh hindsight is a wonderful thing!
Oh the dread that filled me on a Wednesday morning knowing that it was the day of my half hour lesson. The first task was getting the damn thing to school on the bus. How embarrassing it was struggling down the thin aisle, bashing most people on my way to find the very first available seat. I didn't care who I sat with, even if they smelt, just wanted to get seated.
Then, arriving at school and chucking my violin in the store cupboard (I didn't care for it much), I'd check the time of my lesson and usually purposefully forget this five seconds later so I wouldn't go. I hated it.
The scary exams, learning all those scales, the screeching of my playing as it's one of those instruments that you have to be exceptional at before it sounds good. My siblings laughter as I practiced in the other room. The constant reminders that I needed to attend orchestra (yawn). It just wasn't a pleasant experience for me.
However, listening to Canon in D Major the other morning (how civilised do I sound?), I felt a slight bit of regret. How cool would it be to have that talent? To have focused in school and actually become a good violinist so that I could get it out and just play to my delight. Something to add to my person making me a bit more interesting. I wish I had thought this at the time.
It's like anything throughout childhood and I think it happens with many of us. I was heavily involved in girls football, part of most sports teams too. If I were to be asked what my hobbies were, I could list and list until the listener was bored. I was involved in so much, but then I grew up and I'd quit most of it by sixteen.
Now at twenty-two part of me wishes I'd continued certain things. Mum did always say I should and as always Mum was right.
Oh hindsight is a wonderful thing!
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