Keep Trying
At the end of 2024 I decided I was going to have a real go at learning to play the piano, and found myself a tutor within walking distance of where I live in East London. We had a trial class in December, and got on great, so we continued in 2025, kind of a new year’s resolution for me. And it has been really enjoyable, mixed with periods of utter frustration. We’re working our way through “Little Dog Tales”, a piano song-book for beginners, and they are devilishly clever little compositions - not especially complicated, but all designed to force my hands and fingers into some new, unfamiliar movements.
One in particular absolutely stumped me. A simple, repetitive, descending chord on the left hand, and an almost offensively easy right-hand melody part.
Playing the left part - yep. Playing the right part - yep. Playing them at the same time - ABSOLUTELY NOT.
If you haven’t ever tried to learn an instrument, its not easy to explain how insanely annoying it is to be able to do the thing very easily with either hand, and then turn into an incompetent buffoon as soon as I tried to do both hands at once. I dutifully practiced on a daily basis, and created some excellent new compound swear-words. I went in that Wednesday morning for my class, and sheepishly explained how I just couldn’t get it to happen. My tutor was very encouraging, and we went over a few things, but basically parked that song and I figured I’d keep trying for the next week.
The next day, I sat down at my keyboard at home, loaded up the appropriate grand piano sound, and started having a go at this piece - and I nailed it first time. I’d gone from completely unable to get past a certain section, to sailing through as if it was nothing.
And the thing is - that’s how learning often works. You bang away at something, feeling like you’re getting nowhere. But in your brain, synapses are firing, connections are being forged, and at a certain point it just clicks and seems like the simplest thing in the world.
I don’t really remember how I felt whenever I woke up 2500 days ago. I certainly would have been very hungover - I left a lock-in at a friend’s pub some time after 5am, and presumably got a very early tube home. For whatever reason, something clicked into place that day, and I have not had an alcoholic drink since then. 2500 days, and approaching my 7th anniversary in early May.
I keep a journal, and this is a very interesting source of personal fact-checking. Some time around my 1st anniversary I decided to go back and read the entries around the start of my sober journey. I had settled into a very straightforward narrative arc - I got unbelievably wasted on the back of another let-down in a fairly toxic relationship, and the following day decided that ENOUGH IS ENOUGH, TIME FOR SOBRIETY! A simple, clear decision.
Reading back I realised that this was not even close to what had happened. I had actually just decided to take an extended break, much like extended breaks I had taken before - I did about 40 days the previous summer, and regularly did Sober October and/or Dry January. Two of my best friends were turning 40 on consecutive weekends in June 2018, so I figured I could take a long break, and then enjoy their celebrations with them, drink in hand.
In that month I did a bunch of internal negotiating - I could start drinking again, but ONLY ON SPECIAL OCCASIONS! Or maybe I would stick to just beer, as I had moved to hard liquor to such a degree that beer basically couldn’t get me drunk. Or maybe I would have an arbitrary number of times per month that I could drink. Or maybe I was only to drink when I wasn’t DJing. Or maybe only when I was DJing. But all along this process, the very clear assumption was that, one way or another, I would return to booze and my identity as The Extremely Drunk Life & Soul Of The Party.
But all through the months and years leading up to May 2018, I had been journalling, meditating, reading, speaking with friends, reflecting with myself. I knew I had a problem. I was desperate to get past the problem, or reframe the problem (in one memorable journal passage I wondered about whether I should commit to being a really good alcoholic, you know, like Oliver Reed or something, get loads of mad anecdotes off the back of outlandish drunken exploits). It really is interesting the places you go to mentally in those moments.
For so long, nothing would stick. And then one day it was easy. I’m not exaggerating either, and this is something I actually feel somewhat guilty about. And I recognise that this is not the case for all people with this particular problem. Addiction and alcoholism manifest in many different ways, and apparently with me it was a case of mentally getting myself to a certain point, and then it became quite simple.
So what is my point here? That if you want something to change, don’t let something as silly as failure stop you.
Failure is, in many cases, an inherently temporary state. The moment you are trying again, the failure is some relic of your past, and you are looking at wonderful uncertainty - maybe this time it will work, maybe it won’t. It only really becomes failure when you stop trying.
And if you stop trying, did you actually want it at all? Everything we do comes at some cost - be it time, energy, money, whatever. And plenty of things are worth those costs to get to the reward on the other side. If you stop because you don’t want to pay the cost - well, that’s about as clear a signal as you can give yourself that you don’t really want that thing, vs whatever the alternatives are.
Of course - there always exists the possibility that some things are beyond the capabilities of some people. But most people wildly underestimate what they are capable of, if they truly try. Often out of the fear of failing - Lord knows, I am guilty of this in plenty of aspects of my personal or professional lives. I do not want this to come across as me saying “I know exactly what I’m doing, and live my values perfectly” - because I don’t, and I’m not. I am full of regrets about missed opportunities and time passed.
In the last year or so I’ve become a little obsessed with The The - their 2000 song SoulCatcher wonderfully catches the feeling of the sands of time disappearing through your fingers, without ever doing the things you meant to.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
You've watched me grow since I was small
So what will I regret the most
The things I do or the things I don't?
The deeper you peer into my soul
You'll find that I already knowBut I can't say it
Because I can barely face it
My life is halfway through
And I still haven't done
What I'm here to doEven though the chances flowed
I sat and watched the hours fold
In upon themselves
To stop their hands revealing
What I can't say
What I can barely face
My life is halfway through
And I still haven't done
What I'm here to do
My mummy said
What you give is what you get
And the only thing worth having is...
Happiness
But trapped inside my bones
Fear, desire
And hope are on fire
And will expand like smoke
And fall down like rain
Again
Again
Again
Again
The note of optimism at the end is crucial, cautioned by recognition of the chance of repeated failure, again, again, again. But what matters really is that optimism, that knowledge that within him are those things that will power him forward. Fear, desire, hope.
We are all fallible, we are all imperfect. But we can try.
Thank you for sharing this. Thank you for being vulnerable. I really liked your style of conveying your thoughts through writing. Read this on the recommendations of David. It was Worth it. I am subscribing you.