There is that kind of beatific magic, a happiness that one would feel when a thing they hold dear returns at the time they thought would be incapable of coming back. A lover that left. A friend who strayed. A father that drifted. A brother that distanced himself. Even people, they sometimes lose themselves in their own sea of bewilderment, of dilemma, of bad choices. That was me a few years ago. A story of something lost returning.
I like music. The rhythm and blues. The strings and keys. As for that, I was given an iPod Nano for my 10th birthday. It malfunctioned after some time and I finally resolved to downloading on my phone. Despite the many mediums I would use to listen, I was not anchored on it as much. I could live, study, and write without music. It could make me dance, croon, and imagine but it stops there. It just was not the type of thing I would love.
Two years later, I started to push myself towards the things I had no clue of, in the name of knowledge. I joined this guitar class while using a cracked and broken guitar my cousin gave me. I was persistent in learning despite the instrument's impediments. I had no desire to be the best, but I willingly invested a lot of time and energy towards at least knowing how to play a single song. However, a year later, I stopped. I met this girl who was really in to me and after just days of pondering, I recklessly decided to go for the relationship, to try something new. It turned out to be a hindrance to exposure and learning as Love, if pursued at the wrong time, tends to blind and lead people away from what's really important. The relationship was quick. She fell for someone else and left me broken. Little did I know that during the course of the relationship, everything I knew about guitar had slowly been dwindling. It was slowly turning into a foreign idea to me. Now, I'm all alone with no hand to hold and I'm loosening the grasp on the instrument I once used to know how to play. What was worse, I was not aware of it.
A year later, my mother informed me that she signed me up for this leadership camp. She wanted to, I guess, ameliorate the set of skills and broaden the perspective I already have. I did not like how she did it without my consent, but I did not have much choice but to be grateful and obey. The camp started well enough. I met people from different schools who were my age and was able to make my first set of friends on the first day. We became a group of four boys who enjoyed the camp activities together.
The camp days shedded until the third night. We were then informed that all campers are encouraged to perform for a talent show on the fourth day. We began forming our individual groups as me and my three friends banded together, although we had no idea of what we would be performing. As I was strolling outside the following day, I came across one of my friends, sitting by a tree and playing his guitar. I felt proud that I also know how to play, so I asked if I could borrow it. I then decided that I could be the guitarist in our performance while my other friends could sing. The moment my fingers stretched to form a chord, my memory failed me. I immediately shut down. For a moment, it seemed like I was just holding a piece of wood that is as long as my legs. I was dumbstruck. I was frustrated. I was baffled, greatly. Was it really possible to lose grip on something that fast? Were all effort and time put to eventual waste? I thought it was an unchanging principle that once I do my best, God will do the rest. But I guess, despite all evidence to the contrary, it was possible. It was...well, gone for good. I felt immensely abashed and disheartened that I returned the guitar. At the time of the talent show, I ended up singing along with my friends as our final performance. They announced the winners shortly afterwards while everything else around me seemed blurred and sounds were muffled. I could not stop thinking about what I lost. I had to get it back.
That night as we were about to pack to sleep, I asked my friend to teach me a song. As he was teaching me, his friends kept calling him to play poker with them. I did not want to feel like a hindrance to his fun so, as challenging as it may be, I told him to stop and go play with his friends. The entire night I strummed, I plucked and err. My fingers were failing me still, but I did not let it stop me. I knew what I wanted, and I was not going to let it go again. Nothing would make me falter again, I made sure of it. Camp was soon over as we said our good-byes and went on our separate ways. For the rest of the summer, I soaked myself in guitar videos. Despite the immense effort I was giving, I knew it was not enough. I was determined for more. The possibility of losing something I have worked so hard to gain loomed and haunted me. I was not going to give up, not when I arrived this far.
That same year, we had our monthly camp reunion wherein the camp head asked us to jot down our year resolutions and goals. We were each given illustration boards to write them. On my board, I wrote:
"I want to master the difficult chords, the ones that required the pinky and finger stretching. I want to master a song and perform it in a crowd of people."
I gaped at it and pondered. I knew that I was foolishly setting goals for myself that I know would not only be too ambitious but it would be impossible. I could not even memorize the chords I was taught. I constantly needed a cheat sheet and a guide to get me through a song. Heck, I couldn't even memorize the chord progression of the song. How can I, an amateur guitar player, make out the difficult chords and stretch his fingers that included his pinky? I was asking for embarrassment. Who was I kidding? God knows if I lose all acquired skills and tips on the day of any performance. I sighed in despair. But at the same time I knew, nothing great ever comes easy, which means good guitar playing would require more effort, sacrifice and willpower..and I was going to do just that.
On school nights, I would stay up late listening and practicing despite of all the heavy tasks that are piling up. I would ask experts for any tips on playing smoothly, although it would feel very embarrassing. I would observe the guitar players in their live acoustic performances in malls, restaurants, and cafes. I would try to dissect a song to their individual instruments and focused more on the guitar parts. I would remember all the things I have observed and learned through these experiences and apply them in my playing. When I would fail, I get up. When my string would break in a performance, I continue. When I would forget, I devise ways on how to keep it in memory. After five years of mistakes, failures, experience, and findings...I have mastered the difficult chords (have even made my own). I can stretch my finger wider than I never would have thought possible, and what was once thought to be too ambitious and impossible...I won second place in our school talent show playing the most outrageous instrument ever.
The guitar.
