Ever since I attended (and had a couple of my students participate in) a workshop by one of my favorite piano teachers, I've been jazzed. This isn't great for writing, at the moment, but once I get everyone planned for next year and get through the Spring Recital, life should be back in balance again.
One of the hardest things to do is to see our own limitations.
They're easiest to find when they're hiding behind an "I can't." They're much more difficult to unearth when they're invisible under any variation of "it's hopeless."
Sometimes, the easiest way out of a rut is just to see what's possible, to see where the next mountain lies. The further past the basics you get, the harder it is to see where you're limiting yourself.
What a great thing when we find them. I step over them, put them behind me, and firmly fix my gaze on what's possible, on what I previously thought was impossible.
More and more, whether it be writing or music, I find the path to improvement is finding and discovering what we can't currently see.
Once you can see something, you can fix it.
Once you step beyond your current limitations, there's a whole toy store of stuff to play with. It's exhilarating, really. All we have to do is see what's possible beyond our limitations.
Limitations are just an entranceway to the fun.
Learn 'em, and then jump to the other side.
Have you ever had that experience of banging your head against a ceiling for ages and ages and ages, and then suddenly you're through, and you're exhilarated for weeks on all the new stuff you get to play with?