30 minutes is all I ask for

13 Nov

Once  week I have a thirty minute piano lesson. I took piano lessons until I was 17 and then stopped as I moved on without my 88 keys.

Three years ago my son started taking drum lessons from a dynamic, warm and talented person. At recital time, I marveled at the studio owner, a talented song writer, musician and producer. 

It took a few years, but in August I made the tentative move to start lessons. We are a busy family and August was a safe, less hectic time to steal 30 minutes for myself. September brought with it the usual weeknight frenzy of quick meals, a ton of driving to and from dance, karate and art classes. 

Some weeks, the 30 minutes I spend learning from and with my piano teacher feel like pure bliss. I am learning to play in a way that’s different from my childhood and teenage days. I can actually play songs without the need for sheet music.  I can sit down and play a song anywhere, anytime. My 30 minutes every Saturday, is my time and though I feel selfish, I don’t want to give it up.

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