The first time I picked up a guitar I was 21 and out in Waterloo for an internship. I remember thinking at the time that I was pretty much too old by that point to ever make any really make it anywhere with the instrument. I’d missed my childhood years, and catching up at this point was unlikely at best.
As I sit closer to 31, I realize in retrospect that if I’d practiced every day since then, I’d be a very functional guitarist by now and well beyond where most disciples ever get. Even though just like when I was 21 I still consider myself to be late in life, my personal policy’s changed: apply attention and care to any new skill no matter how unapproachable it appears. Even if you never come to be great, you certainly have time to get to a practical point where the skill becomes either useful or meaningful in life.
I’m happy to say that I’m back on the wagon as far as the guitar is concerned, and have hit a new personal record in the number of consecutive months that I’ve been regularly practicing. I can even do barre chords now.
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