"Oh, me too," I said fervently, and he looked mildly surprised.
The thing is, there are just so many enjoyable activities that I find extremely difficult until, with enough practice, I don't. These include dancing, speaking in foreign languages, playing a musical instrument, singing beside trained singers, and talking to strangers. There's an endless list of things for which I have no talent but are so "worth doing that they are worth doing badly," as G. K. Chesterton said.
Fortunately, I have discovered that I can improve my performance in these things with sufficient practice. (I have also learned that hating yourself for being so stupid greatly inhibits practice's efficacy.) Perhaps one day I will have accumulated enough hours of hard work that people will think I am naturally talented. (Ha!)
As I mentioned earlier, we were taught the Shim Sham at my last party. Although I paid attention, the "half breaks" confused me very much. I thus spent some time every morning practising the Shim Sham with my computer and a mirror while wearing hiking boots to support my aching ankle. I also attended our instructors' normal public class for a second lesson on the Shim Sham and discovered I had regressed. Stupid half breaks.Nevertheless, I spoke very enthusiastically about the Shim Sham to some friends when B.A. and I were staying at their place last weekend. Despite my two left feet, I get very excited when I talk about dance parties and plans for more ticketed dances. I can bore for Scotland on the subject. Nevertheless, I piqued my hostess' interest enough for her to ask me to illustrate the Shim Sham. And, since we were in a big kitchen, and I had drunk a sufficient quantity of good red wine, and I had "It Ain't What You Do" on my smartphone, I complied.
And here's the thing: I discovered that for the first time I wasn't just learning or practising. Although I wasn't executing the steps perfectly, I was actually dancing. It was like what they say about sports: you practise so that you can play. It's the same thing with languages: you practise so that you can read or (even better) converse.
Maybe this shouldn't be such a revelation to me. However, it's a liberating thought that it is the norm to have "two left feet" or to be "bad at languages" or "terrible at piano" until and unless you do sufficient practice. It fills every complicated activity with hope: perhaps with enough coaching and study I could even master trigonometry! (I'm not actually sure what trigonometry is, but I do know it is important for rocket science.) Maybe with enough coaching and practice almost anyone can do almost anything!
The thought makes me happy, and--incidentally--Cieszę się (which I roughly pronounce cheh-shay-sheh) means "I'm glad." Meanwhile, I've gone back to studying Polish and Italian every day, and I wrote a letter to my goddaughter in Polish for the first time. I'm not sure she can read yet, but her mum or dad will read it to her, and they can correct my mistakes as they go. (The great scary drawback to speaking to a small child in her own language is that she is still learning it from adults and so repeats your mistakes. Eek!)
Sometimes practise really is the thing, for which the first step is getting over self-consciousness, and that too gets easier with practise. Sometimes things don't work out that way, though. I was signed up for a guitar lesson by an acquaintance (it's a long story), the first music lesson I ever had in my life. A guitar is excruciatingly more difficult to play than a piano, I discovered (my brother used to give me occasional sort-of lessons on that instrument). My fingers, though flexible, are short and rather thick; I found placing them correctly so hard that I kept forgetting to pay attention to the instructions about chords, etc. as I fumbled to move my fingers. I decided that however much I admired guitar-playing, it wasn't for me.
ReplyDeleteOh dear! After the first lesson? Theory: Maybe we need three lessons before we jettison a dream, just like I think a Nice Catholic Boy deserves three dates before a NCG decides he's not for her, and the TLM deserves three Sundays before someone decides its too quiet for them. At the same time, there are so many interesting things to learn and so much time is needed to master a skill that we really have to pick and choose! (Mrs McL)
DeleteDiscouraged after the first lesson? Well, yes, for someone who is not naturally musical. And believe me, when I read your stories about yourself and your brother, I'm aware that such people do exist. As I hinted, I think I might have found learning at least a little piano (or other kinds of keyboarding) a little easier.
DeleteAnyway, I meant to reply to this ages ago but the effort involved in preparing to sell our house was immense. I dreamed of nothing but cardboard boxes for 3 weeks....
My Lindy Hop teacher recently told me that my swing out was looking good...all I needed to do was to do it about 1,000 more times. The long learning curve of your muscles and mind getting comfortable with the movement can feel intimidating, but luckily, as you point out, it's also so fun and a healthy way to practice humility too. How delightful to dance through an impromptu Shim Sham lesson, I need to practice that one more.
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