Tripp Fenderson

My hands are no longer lost in the infinite possibilities of music before me.

I’ve been learning to play the piano on my own for the past few months. Although my progress is slow, it is progress. Lately I’ve noticed that I’m beginning to sit down to “play”...as opposed to sitting down to “struggle”.

Last night, I made an escape to the keys for about an hour. I was there too long and my hands hurt when I finally got up but as I pushed the bench away, I realized that there is something so wonderful about this instrument.

88 keys are laid out across her and my hands, hovering in anticipation before I begin to play, have the same opportunities as anyone else. A classical virtuoso, a jazz pianist, a child or even me…

We all can play the most beautiful music but doing so requires dedication, time, a willingness to try something new and the ability to see beyond the moment.

Playing is not about the individual notes though. It only happens if we learn the instument, the chords, the phrases, the nuances and eventually, the importance of the silence. Only then will one truly play.

I’ve found this grace in the moments I’m with the piano. Right now, my challenge is training my hands to move in opposite directions at once. If I play slowly and methodically, I’ll strengthen my hands and my mind. If I attempt to move my untrained hands too quickly, my fingers fall into a comfortable pattern of failure. Their movements are incorrect and the music falls apart...but my hands are safe and there are no complaints from my fingers.

But I know...my ear knows...it’s wrong. So I stop, relax...and try again. Slowly, I dance my fingers over the keys, this time watching each step they take - forcing them into action. Without learning the changes, no progress will be made...and I will never play. There will be no music, only noise.

The piano is a wonderful instrument and the joys I am finding in exploring her heart compare to none other. The progress is slow but for now, I’m learning to love that my hands are no longer lost in the infinite possibilities of the music before me.