How playing an instrument changed my life

It is hard to explain where this all began. Maybe it started when Tyler got a new job and celebrated by buying too much music gear. Or maybe it began when I bought two tickets to see Jacob Collier while I was on a work trip. That small decision somehow opened a whole new world for both of us.

Music has always been something I admired from a distance. I tried it when I was younger, but it never really stuck. The theory felt intimidating, and the idea of being bad at something felt even worse. As life became busier and louder, I started to crave something that did not require words or perfection, something that simply allowed me to be present.

That is when I decided to learn again. Slowly, but with intention.

At first, I could barely look at a music score without feeling overwhelmed. I started learning words like embouchure and tonal, and I celebrated the smallest victories. Getting through a full page without losing focus felt like an accomplishment. I would never call myself the best musician in the world, but I am proud of the person I became through this process.

Something even more special happened along the way. Tyler began playing music too. It felt as though parts of our childhoods had returned, ready to reintroduce themselves. He picked up the saxophone, I picked up the harp, and soon our house was filled with sound. There were missed notes and plenty of laughter, but more than anything, there was joy. We rediscovered what it felt like to play.

Music became an anchor in our relationship. It gave us something to share without needing to speak. We spent quiet evenings learning songs like Scarborough Fair and letting ourselves get lost in the process. It was never about being perfect. It was about showing up together and finding a rhythm that belonged only to us.

When we went to Creator Camp, I recorded the same song five times before I finally felt it was right. During that week, I learned more about music theory than I ever expected to. I met people who made me feel connected to something larger than myself. They were artists who created with heart, and who reminded me how much beauty lives in community. That retreat changed how I think about creativity and connection. Anne Lamott once said that everything you need to learn about writing can be found in the school cafeteria. I think the same is true for music. Everything you need to learn about connection can be found around a shared table or in a shared song.

Since then, life has moved quickly. We got married, traveled, and started new chapters in new cities. Through all of it, music has remained a quiet constant. It gives us a way to slow down, to laugh, and to express ourselves when words feel too small.

Recently, we have been watching those nostalgic music movies from the early 2000s, like Bandslam and Raise Your Voice. They are a little cheesy, but they remind me why I love this journey. Music, for us, has been about growth, humility, and learning to start messy. It is about finding your sound over time and appreciating the people who are learning beside you.

Learning to play an instrument did not just teach me how to make music. It taught me how to listen more closely, how to soften when life feels hard, and how to fall in love with the process one note at a time.