I was tired of saying, "I'm not really a musician, I just play a few chords on the guitar," so I sent a message to my Facebook friend who is Austin-cool and in-the-know musically. I rambled on about needing "people," learning Purple Rain when Prince died, and my musical goals for 2018.
He kindly responded that I should visit South Austin Music and so I did...2 months later.
It's a small store.
An employee asked, "Can I help you?"
I didn't know how to answer.
"I uh... I um...I just needed to be here..."
He showed me a few guitars and I asked him about lessons. When I got in my car to leave it felt like a victory...I showed up.
Later in the week I made the call, and by Friday I was back: at a music store in the "Live Music Capital of the World," with a guitar master, ready to begin. As the weeks passed, I practiced when I "had time," didn't complete my assignments, and by week 3, my instructor told me I was "behind the 8 ball."
The next week I actually practiced, memorized the things I'd been asked to learn and felt pleased with myself. Expecting a pat on the back, instead, I received more constructive criticism. I felt flustered, awkward, and fought back tears. Driving away, the mental assault began: "this place is not for people like me, this is too hard, I'm not a musician, he doesn't teach the way I learn..."
What I understand though, is that I stepped out of my comfort zone and I feel uncomfortable.
In honor of my awkward inner child, who just wants to learn to play, I am willing to be uncomfortable, willing to be something other than perfect. In a few weeks or a few months or a year, I will be glad I made myself send the Facebook message, glad I showed up at the store, and glad I continued lessons...despite my discomfort with each step.
Every "yes" to growth and new life has its inherent discomfort.
Where are you willing to be uncomfortable?