I’m a quitter, especially one who gives up too easily. Dictionary calls me the Defeatist. When the going gets tough or when it clearly demands will, I have a tendency to dust my hands and calmly walk away. Without looking back. May be I would, but only to see how far along I have gone.
“Nothing’s over ’til you quit.”
― Alisha Rai
And everything’s done when you do.
It’s been the same with a lot of things — Belly dancing, I took a few classes and decided it was too much belly struggle. Karate — I have an Okinawa yellow belt, not green, orange or black. There’s no why, because I never continued. In the recent times, Linkedin — I decided to have an active profile that has regular posts, articles, and a tech blog. I did some of it until I landed my current job and then phew. I hardly use Linkedin these days. I know sticking to something requires greater will than letting go. Like rowing upstream. Tedious. Strenuous. Yet rewarding. While straying, which I often catch myself doing, offers thrill, wonder, something that has me completely mesmerised in the moment. Like seeing a butterfly for the first time. Or the third. It’s the same right?.
I remember creating a narrative that actually favoured this personality flaw, that I wasn’t quitting; rather exploring a different quest. After all, I own a Gemini mind, and we all know what it’s like to live with it in charge: impulsivity, curiosity, and an unyielding need for variety.
My tryst with Ukelele
I recalled a few years ago that I had always yearned to pick up a musical instrument. In my younger years, I tried playing the violin, but without a single musical muscle in my body, I failed miserably. I looked about and discovered a string instrument that was regarded as being simpler than others. It was the Ukelele. The Hawaiian original.
2019
I went to a store called The Ukelele Movement and purchased a concert-sized Uke and signed up for their workshop on the same day. The curving mahogany-wood in my hand had me enthralled. It was 5 years ago. Then to now, a lot has happened including Covid. Numerous attempts at taming, befriending, breaking in and domesticating my Uke. 1. Like the band player who agreed to train me in playing pop songs for his pocket money. I didn’t seem to enjoy his tutelage as much as I had expected to. 2. Like my own motivated self browsing for tutorials on youtube. They were random, and far between which meant little to no progress. 3. Like taking an online group class with an 8-year-old girl who surpassed me to be the trainer’s pet. Seeing no other alternative, I gave myself permission to quit.
Nothing ever worked. The Uke never budged. Although there were minor milestones I hadn’t mastered the contraption.
March 2023
But something was different this year. I was writing my journal one day and from nowhere, I started to feel like a failure. Numerous attempts, nothing to show for it, though. It seemed wrong to give it up when I reflected on why I had chosen it in the first place. Even wondered how Universe will honour my wishes if I myself didn’t show promise. While I could easily make peace with letting go, I was more willing to question my own traits this time. I then made the decision to enroll in classes once more and see what would happen if I didn’t drop out this time.
Deciding to quit quitting
I looked for a tutor who would take my case and treat me with more consideration than his typical students. I sent Mr. Saswata, the trainer I discovered online on Superprof, a sincere letter. I expressed my sentiments for the Uke, including my instinctive desire to give up more times than I’d like to admit, and the fact that I consider myself a serial-quitter in general, but this time I refuse to, at least without putting up a fight.
Man vs the machine
It’s been a breezy two months since I started with Saswata. I’m not as afraid of my Uke as before. I have developed a reverence, almost pious and serene-like. The classes don’t seem like a work or an effort. It’s meeting a friend, sharing our nothings and getting better at practice. What I like about my trainer is that he understands when I tell him about a trouble. For instance, I complained that it’s never too easy for me to switch between chords while playing a song. His solution was not simply practice more. He said that there are two kinds of practice. One, the active practice we do on the instrument. But there’s also a passive one, where I maneuver the device mentally. He suggested that I do this in mind first, as many times as I could. Visualise myself switching the chords I have trouble with effortlessly. This has strangely helped me a lot.
I guess it is true that we manifest what we believe in. Even if I’m not exactly where I want to be, I’m satisfied with the journey I am on. And I am beyond thrilled that I hadn’t given up this time.
Another three to five weeks in and probably I will have something that I could proudly present. Until then, am sticking with my darling Uke and may this be my invitation to stick with whatever you are struggling with, provided you know why you began.
“I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. I know I can.”
— Watty Piper, The Little Engine That Could
