The degree and uninterrupted time span within which í was able to play soft c has been a rare gift. Perhaps, myopia causes my inabiity to not see the potential to play soft c more frequently. Perhaps, í can only play soft c for /a/ certain kind/s of love(r)s. Perhaps, soft c is the sacred me.
The world pulls the hard c from the Casio Tonebank keyboard that my soul plays. Howl (fka hell), í actually play hard c in order to appear as soft c or even middle c to others. Worlds harden me, but í remain able to scale c in three octaves. Soft, middle, and hard. If you do not know what í mean, you must be a true musician.
Í mean-to-say that i can still pluck three c notes. Not too shabby for a simple southern gal, but í manage my own expectations. If you can play your own note in more than one octave or scale, celebrate. Do not assume it will always be so.
If you cannot play your own note, do not despair. You may surprise yourself one day soon. One day can be today. You could be playing without hearing yourself. Perception of auditory feedback is a self-referential act. When you play too low or too high for human ears to perceive, remember, other creatures may hear your tonebank. Other creatures may bound over to you, to help or to to teach. Help and instruction can be but is not necessarily painless.
Just remember: an envelope stretches, a string resounds, alloys may be maleable.
Just(ly) remind yourself of your own elasticity.