Piano was difficult. Growing up with an older sister meant the fewer decisions I had to make on my own. Whatever she chose, I tagged along as well. Even though as a family, we were low funded, my parents had a deep belief that music can heal the mind, as well as shape it. When I was five, she enrolled us into piano classes. The beginning was rough; my fingers weren’t able to move as seamlessly as my teacher or my sister. As a child, I took shortcuts. I rushed through the practice time, hoping the hard work could be done in half the time. Piano practice would bring me to tears almost every time I sat in front of the black and white keys. Learning pieces from the RCM syllabus meant that I was required to take an examination for each grade of