Friends of mine are visiting from out of town; one of whom is a talented young pianist. Prior to supper, she sat at my piano and (from memory) played several classical and jazz pieces. Listening to her inspired me to begin playing again.
I’ve studied off and on for years and have been meaning to get back at it, but starting over is hard. It means admitting failure (no matter how temporary). It requires taking several steps back and covering old ground. We can’t help but compare our current skill level to the one we once had and of course, we find ourselves lacking. Every time we start and stop, our self-confidence takes a beating.
Resistance loves this. Our egos hate it.
This scenario is as true of writing as it is of music. Picking up an abandoned manuscript is tough. The first few months of work will probably be no fun at all, but putting in those challenging hours is necessary. Berating ourselves for having lost momentum is a waste of time. The only thing that matters is that we start again. Start from wherever we are now with whatever we’ve got now.
