We’re expected to be good at everything as adults, to have it all figured out. We have to give the illusion that we have mastered our careers, our relationships, and our finances, so we’re terrified to show people that we’re all still an amateur, still trying to work out what the hell we’re doing.
This year, I began learning the violin. Not because I yearned to be heard, but because the universe handed me a violin and I decided it was time to learn. It’s been one of the best things I’ve done for myself.
Earlier this year, I was very ill and couldn’t eat for a long time. I started somatic therapy with Yustin Castillo from Fluid Stillness in Prague. She gave me exercises to help loosen my jaw and ease my anxiety so I could eat again. These exercises were similar to singing exercises. One exercise involved creating a vibration with my mouth and holding my chest to feel the vibration. The idea was to ground myself and reconnect with my body.
Around the same time, I was randomly given a violin. I initially said no, but then I thought about it. I considered my fear of performing, a fear so intense it made me cry when I talked about it. But I also realised that I had a desire to perform. I express this desire through social media, drawing and writing, but the thought of performing in front of people makes me want to hide. This made me realise my fear was really a fear of being seen, which was negatively affecting other aspects of my life.
I also realised that playing the violin could be a form of fidgeting, a way to channel my anxiety. I could hold a bow and focus on the violin instead of the people around me. The vibration of the instrument on my chest also seemed like it could be a helpful grounding exercise.
I take private lessons with Heidi at Hrajeme s radostí. She’s incredibly sweet and patient. I enjoy the process of learning. I have 30-minute weekly lessons which are short but that helps me fit it in, and I’ve come to see practice as a form of “me time.” My flatmates might not love it, but I do. And I think my dog might too—although I can’t tell if he’s singing or screaming along.
When I get anxious, just ten minutes of playing the violin can calm me down completely. It’s the concentration, the sound, and the awareness of my body—my posture, my breath, and my hands. My playing isn’t perfect, and I pity anyone who has to listen to it. But that’s not the point. Learning an instrument has made me more grounded in my body, given me time to myself, and helped me clear my head.
I recommend it as a form of self-care, not to be good at it or to impress anyone, but to just feel yourself and find some calm in your week. We spend so much energy trying to be shinier and firmer, developing our bodies in the gym. But what if we channeled that same energy into developing our creative and artistic sides?
Learning a musical instrument as an adult isn’t about becoming a virtuoso. It’s about reconnecting with ourselves, finding a new way to express our emotions, and discovering a sense of peace in a chaotic world. It’s a reminder that it’s okay to be a beginner, to be bad at something, and to find joy in the process of learning.
I wrote this article after reading this article in The Atlantic.
This article was written by Lydia Titterington.