Only this week, someone compared my piano playing to that of Rachmaninoff’s. To be precise, they said: “He’s not as good as Rachmaninoff.”

Sorry, that’s such an old joke. But then my desire to learn piano is just about as prehistoric. Right now, talking to you, I am 481 days into Duolingo Piano, about six days into the substantially better Simply Piano app, a couple of months into a friend’s books on piano playing — and four lessons into the real thing with an actual piano teacher which is the most frightening thing of them all.

Think of the best piano player you can, and then go listen to him or her. Think of the worst, and now we’re talking my level. That’s obviously not to insult my teacher, I am only four half-hour lessons in and even now, I mean this moment, I am writing to you instead of practicing. I know so little that I don’t even have a grasp of how much it is that I don’t know. And then I can play even less, and then I can play that even less consistently than you’d hope.

But in a minute, I will go practice. I will go annoy the neighbours. And for the short time I’ve got to do that in just now, there will be nothing else in my head but music. It is fantastic to spend the rest of the morning with the music in your head being what you’ve played, or at least tried to play. It’s the practice time that is why I’m doing this, though, apart from how I just relish piano music, it’s the time doing something totally occupying. Totally occupying and different to everything else I do.

I get to do a lot of things I excessively enjoy but I’m conscious every week that there are these 30 or so that must be done and so always are, and then the week is over. Next thing you know, the month is gone, the year is passing, all of that. Even the piano doesn’t take me away entirely since at present I’m very conscious that next Tuesday evening and the next lesson is coming, plus if I ever get any good at it, part of the whole point is playing in time.

But then I didn’t have time for this, and you’re the same, you don’t have time for something until you’re doing it and somehow you do. I think I’ve been coasting, too, doing things I’ve done before and believe with only minimal evidence that I’m good at. I am so not good at playing piano, yet I can see what seems to me to be enormous improvement.

My teacher doesn’t see it, not so much.

Still, it’s exciting to be at the start of learning something.