try and try and try
Ukuleles are like broccoli in that they don’t have a word in Arabic. Our BROK-lee and OO-koo-lay-lee come in the form of molokhiya and the oud.
I bought my first musical instrument during Fender’s back-to-school sale in 2024. I saw a baby pink uke and thought that the best medicine for heartache must be a new hobby. And it was a good distraction. New words and flexibility exercises and big dreams to learn to play All I Wanna Do by The Beach Boys.
As someone who did not grow up around instruments, it was fascinating to observe firsthand how latent learning works with music. I would try to get my fingers to smoothly switch from C to G every day until my hand cramped up and then life would get a hold of me and I would inevitably let my ukulele gather dust for a month or two. When I went back, the switch suddenly felt easier.
I didn’t understand the magic behind this but I soon started bringing my ukulele with me on trips. All I knew was that if I put in the time and effort to practice, the wires in my brain would keep dancing to my tune while I dreamt.
This happens outside of music too. That’s the alchemical beauty of choosing to behave like the person you want to be. By doing so, you have already become that person. So to me, ruby’s suggestion that “skill is merely familiarity” when talking about programming and making music sounds no different from Ramona Ausubel writing that “no work is ever wasted. Even if one throws something away, it leaves behind seeds” in her advice on how to be a writer.
It can be so painful and embarrassing to try really hard and not know if you will ever be good, if you will ever be able to play a song or build a website or write a good story. But you owe it to yourself to try and try and try until you drop dead.
So dust up your broccoli and steam your ukulele and let your brain be your cheerleader.