Decades and decades ago, I purchased a full-dress drum set from an neighbor ... once he'd finally lowered the price substantially. I immediately set myself to learn all I could about playing drums.
I took an ever so brief introductory lesson from someone in a local shop that sold drums, and set about applying what he had shown me when I got home. Eventually, I was able to actually play them.
At some point, my technique became more or less automatic and I was able to let my hands and feet do the drumming more or less on their own while I sat there immersed within the syncopated rhythm.
That's when I got up and walked. My entire purpose in buying and learning to play my drum set was to experience that immersion so that I could write a poem about sitting there within the beats.
I applied this approach to learning to simultaneously play the piano and sing along with a tune, as well. Then I turned my attention to my guitar and did likewise. I did this mainly for those experiences.
Along the way, I developed a much deeper appreciation for music, and especially so for classical Music after I learned to play some short, simplified pieces. I was even able to compose a bit of music.
I had never actually intended to master any of these instruments, (this poet is more explorer than perfectionist), but I paid for these experiences with patience, time and a bit of ready cash, for poetry.