103. You’re Very Capable

At age 40, Nora is learning how to play piano. And taking piano lessons for the first time is teaching her a lot about herself. 

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

{PIANO MUSIC UP}

I’m Nora McInerny, and that’s me playing piano. I’m not great at it. I’ve been playing for a few months now, after googling “adult piano lessons near me” and finding a place that was, indeed, near me.

{MUSIC DOWN}

I showed up with a Taylor Swift songbook ready to be a prodigy, to be told, wow, you are the student I’ve been waiting for, are you ready to go on America’s Got Talent? Is that still  a show? I’m not sure. 

{MUSIC BACK UP}

That didn’t happen. 

{Music back under}

I was given the same beginner book that every child is given. I was told to bring a notebook for my teacher to take notes in. And every week or so, I show up for my forty-five minute lesson. I leave my phone and my bag by the door, sit down with my piano book – and try to show my teacher how hard I’ve been working. 

My brain and fingers and ears and eyes have never had to work this hard together, and I can literally feel the neurons in my brain trying their best to all work together.

It’s really hard! 

And I, historically, do not do hard things on purpose. Yes, you can call me in an emergency and I will snap into action. If it’s trauma, call your mama…and I’m your mama in this situation. If it’s…a non-emergency that gives me the slightest amount of friction? I’m done. If the line is too long at a restaurant? I’m going home. 

I’m truly shocked that I have stuck with piano this long. I literally sweat in class even though the air conditioning is on and I am a lizard person. But I strain through every single lesson, and every practice. And every time I start a song, I think, where am I going? What am I doing? I’m the worst at this and I’m not getting any better!

But every class, my teacher, who has been teaching kids and grownups how to play piano for months, encourages me. She says things that make me feel like I am not, actually, the worst student who has ever darkened her doorstep. 

Incredible! She’ll say when I plunk my way through ode to joy.

Amazing! She’ll say when I do it WITH BOTH HANDS!

Recently, when I was practicing the song you’re hearing right now – Dream Echoes – for the first time, she told me, “you’re very capable.” 

Not amazing. Not incredible. But capable.

And when I left my lesson and went back to my car, I wrote it down to remember. What a compliment! What a nice way to approach a new task, or an old one. Not with the idea that you have to be the best, or even good…but with the idea that you’re capable. Capable of learning something new. Of trying something new. Of deciding that actually, you’re good with who and what you are and that you don’t NEED to try anything new. 

You’re good just as you are. And if you want to push or strive for anything else, you can. Not because you have to, not because you’re the best, not because you’re destined for greatness. Because you’re capable. 

But not too capable.

SOUND UP – me asking Carolyn if I could have been Taylor Swift and her saying, ha! No.