The main obstacle to learning the piano, at my ripe age of 33, is my wretched fingers. Decades of cracking my knuckles and lifting weights (and typing on computer keyboards all day too, probably) have turned these fingers into quite misshapen sticks. I’m fairly sure I have early signs of arthritis, too: certain grips or holds becomes painful rather quickly. Grasping the handle of a frying pan with my right hand, for example.
This is to say it’s not a great foundation to begin with when playing the piano requires tremendous dexterity and precise touch. I’m okay with not being able to hit certain patterns or movements with the proper fingering technique. What I am not okay with is arthritic pain from simply playing the keys. Perhaps I really should stop cracking my knuckles, cold turkey style. It’s truly my equivalent of a smoker trying to quit.
Thankfully, the pain right now is limited to my left hand. When the index finger gets too involved (read: have many notes to play), the arthritic searing is rather immediate. Stretching exercises seem to help, but it feels to me the hitting power of my left index finger just doesn’t have the same punch as the right. The blind hope is that the more and more I practice and play, the better the situation will become. Sort of like muscle soreness and weight lifting.
In some ways, I lament not starting this craft much sooner. Preferably when I was still a kid, when the fingers were yet virgin from the side effects of knuckle-cracking. Then again, you practically need to go to school back then to learn. There were no online apps and tablet computers you can plug into a piano to autodidact my way through. In-person lessons just wasn’t something my family could afford. Never mind the fact that I didn’t have the same conviction and drive as I do now as a full-fledge adult.
Onwards.