It’s been left untouched for about 3 months.
3 hours became 2 hours, and 2 hours became 1 hour, and eventually, even 1 hour became a burden. I didn’t have any space in my head for it. It was easier for me to concentrate when I could practice for long hours, and 10 minutes or 30 minutes a day felt like nothing. So on December 26th last year, I stopped playing the piano. I told myself (and the piano) that I would be back when things got better. I promised I would be back.
Then last night, about 3 months after I stopped, I was back. I was in front of the piano again.
That was rather fast. I thought it would take years. Every time I passed by the piano, I had this feeling of longing, and I had these doubts whether I was so busy that I couldn’t make even a little time for the piano. I finally realized something. I can’t fully commit to the piano now, yet I can play at least one song. I can’t pratice for more than 1 hour like I used to, yet I can play at least for 1 minute. I realized that I could play for just 1 minute before going to bed. It could be 5 minutes or 10 minutes from time to time. This tiny habit seems pretty great. It wouldn’t improve my skills much, yet at least it would prevent them from deteriorating. It wouldn’t improve my finger speed and dexterity much, yet at least it would prevent them from getting stiff.
So on the 1,697th day since I started playing piano again, today is more flourishing than yesterday.