The first week in Neovim, my hands were strangers.
They reached for a mouse that wasn't there. They hunted for arrow keys I'd disabled. The cursor landed where I didn't mean, and I kept dragging it back — back to the place I thought I was going.
By the fourth day, the hands began to know things I didn't. ciw without thinking. gg=G to straighten the world. Jumps that landed where I meant before I had meant them.
It is practice, not speed. A pianist does not play fast — a pianist plays consistently, and fast follows. A Vim user does not type fast — a Vim user moves with the shape of the text, and fast follows.
The keyboard is an instrument. The editor is the music. The piece is your work.
Five days in, I could not go back.
It's been ten plus years now, this is home.