Learning Guitar as an Adult: Why I Started at 48

At 48 years old, I decided to learn classical guitar — not because I needed another hobby, but because I missed the feeling of being a beginner again.

Oct 24, 2025

Learning Guitar as an Adult: Why I Started Classical Guitar at 48

Update, September 2026: I wrote this on the day I started learning classical guitar. Nearly a year later, I’m still playing. I’ve left the story mostly as I wrote it because I wanted to preserve what starting felt like. At the bottom, you can watch the progress happen week by week.
I started learning classical guitar today.
I’m 48 years old.
For about five years, a classical guitar has been hanging on the wall of our house. My parents gave it to my wife for Christmas, and since then it has mostly served as decoration.
It looks cool.
But every time I sit down to watch TV, I catch myself looking at it and thinking:
Somebody should really be playing that.
Eventually, I realized that somebody could be me.
There’s a strange thing about learning guitar as an adult. At some point, you start wondering whether you’ve waited too long. Whether your fingers are too old, your schedule is too full, or learning an instrument is something you were supposed to do when you were twelve.
I decided to find out.

Why I’m Learning Guitar at 48

There are a few reasons.
First, I think I have some musical proficiency.
I was All-State percussion in high school. I’ve written about that part of my life in Learning the Songs. I’ve also dabbled in piano while my kids were learning.
I can read music. I understand rhythm. And maybe most importantly, I know how to practice.
That doesn’t mean I know how to play guitar.
But it does mean I’m not starting from zero.
That may be one of the advantages of learning something new later in life. You bring everything you’ve already learned with you.
Second, I believe in being a lifelong learner.
Learning keeps you curious. It forces you to pay attention. It reminds you what it feels like to struggle with something you don't understand yet.
There’s something invigorating about being bad at something again.
Third, I’d love to play a duet with my daughter, who still practices piano.
That’s one of the pictures I have in my head: the two of us playing something together. Nothing complicated. Maybe Bach. Maybe a movie theme she loves.
Just something beautiful that we can make together.
And finally, I love the sound of classical guitar.
There’s a scene in Vicky Cristina Barcelona where a guitarist plays at twilight in Barcelona. The music, the mood, the air—it’s beautiful.
That scene stuck with me.
I want to be able to create something that sounds like that.
So here I am.
Day One.
My classical guitar teacher was impressed that I could already read music and focus. Apparently, I’ve got an edge on the ten-year-olds he usually teaches.
I'll take it.

What I’ve Learned About Starting Guitar as an Adult

I’m obviously not an expert on classical guitar.
I just started.
But I do know something about learning difficult things, and I already have a pretty good idea of what will determine whether this guitar is still in my hands a year from now or back on the wall collecting dust.
💡

Find a Good Teacher

One of the best decisions I made was finding a dedicated classical guitar teacher.
A good teacher shortens the learning curve. They help you avoid bad habits before they take root, answer questions you don’t yet know how to ask, and give structure to something that can otherwise feel overwhelming.
But there’s another benefit that might matter even more for adults:
Accountability.
Knowing someone expects you to show up prepared changes how you practice.
It keeps you honest.
It keeps you consistent.
And consistency, more than talent, is what actually moves the needle when you’re learning something new.
If you’re starting something hard, you don’t necessarily have to do it alone. The right guide can make the process easier, faster, and more enjoyable.

Keep a Beginner’s Mind

There’s a Japanese concept called Shoshin, often translated as “beginner’s mind.”
It’s the idea of approaching something without preconceptions, without ego, and without the pressure of needing to be good right away.
I love that idea.
I like spending time with the guitar just messing around. Since I don’t know any better yet, I don’t have many hang-ups about doing things the “wrong” way.
I can be curious.
I can explore sounds.
I can trust what feels interesting.
Being a beginner gives you something adults don't get very often:
Permission to be bad at something.
There’s no reputation to protect. No standard to live up to. No expectation beyond showing up and getting a little better.
That's incredibly freeing.

Start With the End in Mind

Stephen Covey talks about “Start With the End in Mind” in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.
It’s a principle I try to apply anytime I begin something new.
What is my goal here?
Am I dabbling?
Am I trying to impress someone?
Or am I building toward something meaningful?
With guitar, the end in mind isn’t fame or performance.
It’s playing a duet with my daughter.
It’s sitting outside on a summer evening and being able to play something beautiful.
It’s having another creative outlet when life gets heavy.
I’ve already discovered that practicing guitar can be one of the best ways for me to reset when life gets heavy.
When your goal is clear, your motivation becomes clearer too.
And motivation matters most when the novelty wears off.
When your fingers hurt.
When the chord changes feel awkward.
When progress slows down.
When it’s just you and your goal staring at each other thinking:
Are we really doing this?
That’s when the end in mind pulls you forward.
Newness is exciting.
Vision is sustaining.

You’re Probably Not Starting From Zero

This might be the biggest thing I’ve realized about learning guitar as an adult.
Yes, I’m a beginner.
But I’m not really starting from zero.
I know how to practice because I learned that from percussion.
I know how to read music.
I know what it feels like to repeat something badly until one day it isn't bad anymore.
I know progress doesn't always announce itself while it's happening.
Those are things I didn't know when I was ten.
Howard Stern has talked about learning guitar in his 70s and how much he practices. Hearing him talk about it reminded me how much I miss woodshedding—those long, focused hours alone with an instrument, refining something when you're probably the only person in the world who can hear the progress.
Maybe learning something when you're older isn't necessarily harder.
Maybe it's just different.
You have less time.
But you may have more patience.
More discipline.
And a much better understanding of why you're doing it.

Start Before You’re Ready

As I write this, I can feel the slight pain from the beginning of calluses on my left hand.
It's a tiny thing.
But I like it.
It’s a little badge of honor that says:
You started.
That's really the hardest part.
The guitar sat on that wall for five years.
I could have waited another five.
Instead, I picked it up.
If you’re thinking about learning guitar as an adult—or painting, speaking another language, lifting weights, writing, playing piano, or doing anything else you've quietly wondered whether you're too old to begin—I don't think the important question is whether you should have started earlier.
Of course you should have.
We all should have.
The more useful question is:
Are you going to wish a year from now that you had started today?
So at 48, that’s what I’m doing.
Starting something new.
Something hard.
Something beautiful.
And something that reminds me I’m still growing.

My Classical Guitar Progress: Week 1 and Beyond

One reason I decided to record myself was so I’d have a record of where I started.
Progress can be hard to see while you're living through it.
Video doesn't forget.
Here’s Day One—and some of the weeks that followed.
🎥 Week 1
🎥 Week 2
🎥 Week 3
🎥 Week 4
🎥 Week 5
🎥 Week 6
🎥 Week 11
🎥 Week 12
🎥 Week 14
🎥 Week 15
🎥 Week 17
I don't know how good I'll eventually become.
But that's not really the point.
You don't have to know how far you'll go before you give yourself permission to begin.
“Know what’s enough. Build what matters.”