Janine Talbot
This is how my practice sessions on a very different type of flute are going. Last November, I won the bid on a chance for lessons with the Native American flute at our annual parish auction. I didn’t expect anything to come out of it, except maybe clearing the streets when I play. Surprisingly (and thankfully), it’s easier than I thought. So far, nobody has moved out of the neighborhood due to noise pollution … that I know of. There is more to this new interest than a random auction bid. Sometimes, you have to make the time to try something different, especially when you are no longer standing in the background supporting your kids as their world opens up to new experiences. I’ve never been into daredevil adventures like skydiving, but there are other things that got pushed aside. I never took those violin lessons that I thought about over the years. The Italian classes never materialized. Even writing took a backseat to many other things. It just feels like the right time to not push my interests aside.
If this seems to be a midlife empty-nest knee-jerk reaction on my part, you may have something there. Is it odd to start something at 50-don’t-ask years old? I don’t think so. At the writers’ workshop I recently attended, I met a woman in her 80s who was just beginning the writing career she always dreamed of. She was a positive, inspirational lesson to us all that you can start something new every day no matter how old you are.
It took five months for me to arrange the start of flute lessons. It’s a beautiful instrument with a moving, haunting tone when played right. Because I have an excellent instructor who is passionate about music, I’m learning how to play it right. Yes, there is the occasional screech but for the most part I’m achieving a respectable tone and melody. The moment I start trying too hard it is obvious, and I have to start at square one with proper breathing. An added benefit of taking up this particular instrument is that the screeches are far less painful than with other instruments.
A few nights ago, I had been practicing and was taking a break when Spouse entered the room.
“How’s the practicing going?”
“Fine.”
What about that sounds like a reprimand? Nothing. And yet, suddenly in my head I was 12 years old again and my mom was giving me grief for taking too many breaks as I held a pouty stance over my keyboard.
I hesitated for a minute before I picked the flute back up, but realized I was only hurting myself by not continuing to play. Wait – did that mean my mom was right all those years ago? Sigh … yup.
So maybe midlife doesn’t necessarily mean a more mature way of thinking when it comes to practicing. At least these days, I can say my goals are different. It’s not a matter of just getting it over with – it’s a matter of getting something out of it and exploring new things that make me happy. But please pass it around that if anyone plans to hand me an opportunity to try something new, skydiving would not make me happy.
— Janine Talbot is adjusting to her empty nest in southern Maine with her spouse of 32 years and two and a half cats. She can be reached at janinevtalbot@gmail.com.
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