I climb onto the chair, lift the dusty cover, and whip out the piano score for “The Wind Forest,” by Joe Hisaishi, hot off the printer. Three flats? I don’t remember seeing that there before I printed it… I pound out a couple notes and realize that I sound about as harmonious as an elephant giving birth (basically, not).

When I want to pick up a piano score to play a simple soundtrack, it takes hours to figure out. Even then, it sounds nowhere near as nice as the recorded version. I think about how if I had actually practiced when I was younger, I wouldn’t be doing what I do today: restarting and regretting.

Regret is a nasty feeling. It’s taunting and evil, just like the little devil on your shoulder that’s won against the angel on your other shoulder. What’s the whole point of feeling it? The chance to fix what went wrong doesn’t come around very often.

I’ve also discovered how much I dislike it when I’m forced to do something against my own accord. Getting pushed around makes me feel like I’ve lost control of what is going on in my own life and that the things I do are done to please others. (I’m not saying it’s bad to do things for others—it’s not!—but sometimes, it’s best to make your own decisions).

I suppose I never realized that in order to be good at doing something, you had to actually put in hard work and energy. Back when I was still in the single-digit age range, my parents enrolled me in a couple classes—in which I was forced to constantly practice in order to improve. Because of my oblivious naivety, I pretty much disdained everything and anything that required time. Play piano for an hour a day AND practice dancing? Nope, not happening. So I quit after a few years.

Fast forward about a decade; now I really wonder why I ever decided to quit the activities I used to do. Listening to others play wonderful pieces and watching dancers leap gracefully into the air and perform flawless triple pirouettes have made me earnestly long to return to my stubborn childhood and change my attitude and choices.

But instead of sulking over my past decisions, it’s time to take responsibility for what I choose. I can’t change the past, so I might as well learn from it and make sure that I do not repeat mistakes in the future.

I stare back down at my once-capable hands. Playing piano still feels a little foreign to me, but that’s a natural feeling when you start something “new.” The notes will slowly come together. They will because I’ll practice with a smile on my face because I know it’s the decision I made by and for myself.