The senior years in life are often associated with retiring, slowing down or playing golf. But Mavis Himes had a different idea: She took up the cello. It was a long-held dream, one that she needed to act on. Six years later, she is still going strong, despite setbacks like a bicycle accident and an arduous recovery.

She documented her musical journey in her book “Cello Notes: Music and the Urgency of Time,” which was published in August and is available on Amazon and at other booksellers. More information is available at her website, mavishimes.com.

The book is an engaging, personal account that offers insights for those who have always wanted to learn an instrument. We recently talked with Dr. Himes, a psychoanalyst who lives in Toronto, about her experiences.                                                                        – Bob Goetz

What led you to take up the cello?

I was in my late 60s and was contemplating retirement—I’ve been a psychoanalyst for 45 years. I thought I may have a window to do something like take up an instrument. I had played piano as a child, but I didn’t want to go back to that. I always wanted to play a string instrument.

The question, then, was which one. A friend who is a cellist told me that the violin can be rather awkward to hold and to play, and that the cello is much more natural, especially at my age. So I thought, okay, it’s the cello. Plus I love the repertoire.

How did you get going?

First, I needed to find a teacher, but I didn’t know anybody. I asked a friend for a recommendation, and she told me about a young woman— Dr. Dobrochna Zubek. She is a performing artist and very talented, and she agreed to take me on. We connected, and she has become a mentor and a dear friend

The next step was to get an instrument, which I bought, and we were on our way.

Is it what you expected?

I had no idea what I was getting into. I would explain to my friends that in playing the cello there’s the right arm—the bowing arm—and the left, which plays the notes on the fingerboard. Both were a challenge to get used to. I also needed to learn the bass clef. Even though I had played piano and learned both the bass and treble clefs, I remembered the treble clef much more.

It was information overload. Even though the lessons were presented to me in very small bites, it was a lot to take in. The brain in later life just isn’t as sharp. For example, I’m very good on languages—French, Hebrew, Spanish, some Italian. But learning an instrument and the language of music was different.

How did it go, the early stages?

I found there were two levels to learning the cello. The first was the physical. I had to get my body used to playing the cello, getting my fingers and my hands and my arms comfortable with the instrument. My teacher told me it would take time for my muscles to develop. It reminded me of pilates. You can’t just ask someone to touch their toes right away. It takes a while.

I even thought of it in terms of my analytic practice. The analyst may or may not see things, but there’s a timing and a moment when things happen, fluidly and organically. You can’t force it. So even though I wanted my hands to go faster, I knew intellectually that they couldn’t go any faster. They will take the time they need.

That’s why I initially called the book “The Urgency of Time.” I felt time was urgent for this learning journey and I could always use more time.

What kept you going?

I love challenges. But there were times when I felt like I was going up a hill and then I would plateau for what seemed like ages. But I knew that as long as I was seeing gains, even if it was over weeks or months, I would eventually get there. That’s the principle I followed.

What was practicing like?

People find scales boring. But I love playing scales. I like being able to play them in a way that sounds really beautiful, whatever I am trying to work on—intonation, or fluidity, whatever it is. My younger self didn’t see it the same way. As a child, I practiced because I was told to. Now, no one is telling me. I hardly miss a day, and I practice an hour a day, at least. When I don’t, I miss it. No one is holding this over me. Even my husband is surprised at the strength of my commitment.

How do you find the time?

When I started, my practice (as a psychoanalyst) was full, but I was starting to cut back. Now, I work one day a week. So I have more time. Plus, I’m very efficient and organized. I started to give things up. I don’t spend much time reading the newspaper, for example.

I make the time for music. I would love to play chamber music—that’s my goal. I joined this amateur orchestra, and my playing has jumped in leaps and bounds in terms of sight reading and being able to count. My private lessons are still my priority, but playing with others has become really important. I know that eventually I’ll play chamber music.

What advice would you give someone who is taking up an instrument?

Be patient with yourself, and appreciate what you can do, not what you can’t do. Expect that you’re going to be frustrated. Don’t get turned off by that. It’s an up-and-down process, like everything else in life. If you’re going to take it on, know that the journey is more important than the outcome.