Rugby players yell at the mediocre voice inside of me and you

That freaking F chord is driving me nuts. I suspect that rock n'roll stars invented smashing guitars when they were trying to master this pain in the ass chord. Honestly. Lack of progress does weird things to your brain. It makes you angry at your left index finger for being such a weakling.  Anger is better than its reputation: it starts with hot rage boiling up in your stomach and spreads through your blood vessels flooding your whole body with a slightly disturbing energy. But sadly it's not just anger. What's much worse is the quiet part of resignation lurking in some corner of the mind waiting to hunt you down.

Phantasies of smashing the guitar or yelling at your unsuspecting finger are ridiculous but not really damaging. Resignation on the other hand makes you forget practice or create excuses for avoiding it by whispering "why bother? You are never going to master it anyway. Just to save you the humiliation why not skip practice today? You can try again tomorrow". Of course once you start missing practice you suck even more and that voice can draw you in, saying in an understanding tone that "not everybody has talent or dexterious fingers, it's not a shame, why not just sit and relax?" It deludes you into thinking that it's better to do nothing or busy work than try something you like because the emotional pain is just too high in failing. If any of us could harness the seductive powers of that destructive voice, we could probably have any man or woman we desired.
But here's something I'd like to share with that deceiving shithead inside of me which is the biggest gravedigger of dreams: the Haka. Check out the link. It's some very macho Mahori war dance which signifies beautifully strength, devotion to winning and scaring the crap out of anything that feels like stepping in your way. Yeah these guys gave me the strength for a crappy practice which is still a victory. Eventually I'll get the chord, even if it takes me longer than anybody else. Because no rite of passage is forever. The passage is complete, someday. And until then there's rugby players and Mary Ann Radmacher to keep me going:
"Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is a quiet voice at the end of the day saying: I will try again tomorrow."