This being my first post here (nice to meet you all), I have to wonder whether this is the best way to get off on the right foot with people. But I've gotta jump in somewhere, I suppose, so it might as well be here. . . .
A quick bit of background: I'm returning to the music fold after being away for some 20 years. I took lessons when I was a kid—hated them, as most kids are programmed to do—and then took up piano on my own again in high school, mostly just reading the notes on the page and doing my best to play by ear. I never grasped the fundamentals of theory, though I can't say I gave it much effort back then. My passion for orchestral music (particularly film scores) has led me to give it another go . . . and this time I'm frankly shocked at the focus, devotion, and enjoyment I'm both putting in and taking away from the process.
So based on my own past experiences, I get where you're coming from. You want to learn, you want to grow, but sometimes you want to just sit around more. I understand. I can relate. Unfortunately, the hard truth is that it will ultimately come down to how much current value you're able to glean from a deferred goal.
If you're having to read that last sentence again to make sense of it, let me translate by drawing a parallel from the craft I'm much more used to dealing in: writing. Music doesn’t come as naturally to me as writing—which, I suspect, is one reason I’m enjoying the discovery process so much (it’s a great challenge!). For some people, writing doesn’t come naturally either . . . and a lot of those folks would love to be writers for a living. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard some variation or other on what you said in your original post:
“I love reading, and I love to create stories, and I don’t doubt that I want to be a writer, but when there’s something good on the TV it’s hard to force myself to sit down at the computer/typewriter/stone and chisel.”
The problem here is a simple one. The vast majority of people like this want to be authors, not writers. They don’t want to write. They want to have written. They want to go to book signings and sell the movie rights and inspire fan clubs and have leatherbound copies of their masterpieces lining their shelves. They want the result, the rewards that come with it. What they don’t want to do is the work it takes to make all these things happen.
Being a writer means writing. And being a musician means musicing. Often. Whenever you get the chance, really. Musicians aren’t the people who have to force themselves to play. They’re the ones whose fingers are bleeding because they can’t put down their guitar, who can’t resist sitting down for a few minutes at every piano they pass. Put them between a TV and their favorite instrument and ask them to choose, and they won’t hesitate. Nothing keeps them from their passion.
Don’t get me wrong: I don’t mean to discourage you with this. I just think it’s worth asking yourself how much your desired future means to you. No one says, “I love sitting, and I love television, and I don’t doubt that I want to be a couch potato.” But it’s amazing how many people wind up in that particular vocation compared to how many good writers and musicians there are, isn’t it. . . ?