Flash that guitar Back to the Past!

I watched a movie tonight which involved drumming and two unlikely characters coming together, one to learn music and one to teach it.

In some ways, I was reminded of many many lessons within a similar story. Two people, somewhat unlikely people, coming together. One to learn music and another to teach it.

My guitar lessons took place in days of grief and misery. Moping and sitting and staring were day to day activities, though I rarely told anyone about what I did in my spare time. Sometimes staring felt good because it meant I didn't have to think, I could just....be. And moping,

Well, I'm really good at self-pity sometimes. Especially when I feel like nothing is in my control.

Back to guitar. I remember desiring so very much to play. I loved how the acoustic sounded. So smooth and sharp at the same time. So many different sounds all at once. I had the lovely priviledge of knowing someone who wrote and played their own music on guitar. Her songs and passion inspired me and somehow we worked out that she would teach me guitar.

Some days were terrible. The lessons were painful for both of us. It's hard to enjoy music when you are wallowing and determined to be miserable. Yet she never gave up on me and I stubbornly refused to give up on myself.

You see, behind all the moping and self-pity, I was just a simple girl in love with guitar. It wouldn't matter if I wasn't awesome at it, nor did I really want to put in the time to perform with it, I just wanted to PLAY.

In some ways, my guitar skills feel like a miracle. Both my teacher and I had to go through the awkward road of figuring out my rhythm stunk because I was a leftie attempting to play righty.

I still remember the day she fixed up my guitar so I could play leftie. I was exetremely depressed. I had to relearn EVERYTHING. Terrible.

It's like learning to walk a certain way and then someone having to break your legs so you can walk the correct way. Painful.

To look back on those days is very strange sometimes. Though I still like to mope occasionally, I have found that there is usually some speck of joy to be found in living life. And I have learned that the longer one wallows the more one misses.

This is more of a reflection on my past. I think amongst all of it is a thankfulness to my past self for persevering and a thankfulness to my guitar teacher for taking so much time to teach me guitar and so many other things about life.

Two unlikely characters. Two guitars. And two different stories. Yet the beauty is in knowing that we didn't waste any of the time we had together. It is all very rich. Neither of us knew much about how to help each other. But I hope and believe it made life a little bit easier on both of us knowing that we had our guitars and our lessons and our passion.