As I continue down the path of guitar proficiency, I still reflect heavily on that one fateful day over 20 years ago when my dad tried to teach me how to play. He sat me down with his full-sized acoustic, and asked me to play a C chord until I got a feel for it. On that day, I never did get that feel. Instead, I felt the pain of the strings slicing through my fingers, the pain of my hands contorting in an awkward manner, and the pain of my childhood dreams being crushed by the presumed reality that I’d never be good enough. Until Steff gave me the Rocksmith guitar bundle last year as a Christmas present, I hadn’t picked up a guitar in earnest since.
In the last few months, I’ve overcome the once insurmountable psychological hump I created for myself back then and am enjoying the instrument with the limited skills I currently have. I definitely see myself continuing to work at it from this day forward. However, I can’t help but think about how I could have grasped the concept of guitar playing back then had certain things been handled differently.