Slower

Long week, exacerbated by lost sleep due to reading a good book. Snuff is a nice, tightly plotted story. With every imaginable loose end tied up. Knowing the author is facing the end of his writing ability, eking out every sentence, every book, adds a sad taste, and understanding. He's settling his characters with satisfying endings, like a parent wanting to see each adult offspring in a good job, loved, and more or less on their lifepath. A kind of fierce love, and anticipatory grief, lurks under the surface.

I did not go to the last two (of four) ukulele classes. The instructor is faultless in this, he was nothing but encouraging. But after the second class, when I could not make my hand remember the second chord, and the frustration kept me from picking up the instrument for a week, I feared going back would discourage me completely. The instructor tried, told me to take all the time I needed, not to worry if each chord took ten seconds to do, not his fault at all. But I was the slowest student. And I understand now the fear of being the worst student. So easy to get hopeless, not bother, because it becomes so baffling. When everyone around you gets it, smiling in understanding. And I battle tears of shameful stupidity.

Most of my life, I caught on quickly, impatient of teachers who slowed down to a crawl for the slow ones. I wanted to soar, and I was weighed down by them. This time, I was the dragging stone, and I had to cut the rope. D helped me here, thinks that any but private music lessons are pretty much useless because of this variance.

I can't do B chords. I can do simpler ones. I may one day manage more difficult ones, but not for now, not yet. I am slow and have no natural talent. This will be like solving sudoku at first. Lots of practice to get mediocre, but it's good for my brain. I am better seeing numbers now. Playing music, which I have never really been able to do before, even if I'm never more than so so, forces me to think differently. Staying awake, aware, open. This is the point, really.

And the unexpected lesson of compassion for the slower students who once so irritated me.