Improvement

I’ve said, again and again
That there is no point in doing something
Unless I want to get better at it
I still say it
But what it means has changed over time
And, I dare say, continues to change
The many facets of this thing called improvement
Lie in front of me
At the outset I cannot see beyond technique
Manual skill
In pressing a note
Or wielding a paintbrush
Or honing a phrase
Or pulling gems from a book
Bogged down in technique
I run the risk of not experiencing the magic
Of pouring myself into whatever I’m trying to create
Of seeing images
Of hearing sounds
Of feeling warmth or chill
Of touching a soft, yielding, giving surface
Of the joy of friendship
Of pathos at parting
Of what resides in my heart
How do I clear this hurdle
Simple
Squelch out of the morass
No effort involved
Just allow myself to do it
And step over the fence
To wondrous pastures
To experience the joys of real improvement