I spent an hour at the side of my mom’s hospital bed this evening, talking with her about subjects old and new, and just being with her, fully present. It was a lovely time. Since her health travails have begun, I’ve started to really listen to my deep inner self in ways that I have neither be able nor interested in doing before. I thought about all of the things that I’ve done because I thought that they’d be good for me to do, or they would make others impressed with me, and then I tried to think of the things that I did because I wanted and needed to do them – just for me. It’s not a long list. But those decisions are among the best I’ve made in my life, and have brought me the most lasting happiness.
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3 replies on “life in flux”
Really enjoying your blog and the description of musical life on the other end of the globe. It is interesting how the challenges of life get us listening to the self within. Us musicians get our selves so entwined with the music that we rarely stop and consider how to see ourselves as separate beings from it. Its usually the connection to loved ones that gives that gentle reminder of a music that exists in deeper human contact. Hope your mom is on the mend.
Alfred (in Australia)
Thanks, Alfred. As the stress and angst of having a parent in ill health began, I found myself really craving some quiet practice time, just to play Bach or some other contemplative music, because it would take me out of my circumstances and give me some peace of mind. This made me realize why music, ideally performed live, is so important to so many people: being in that personal relationship with great art is not a luxury, but a necessity that helps people to escape from the problems and annoyances of their daily lives. My mom is making progress, and thanks for your kind wishes. – C.
Charles, I’m so sorry to hear about your mother’s illness and glad to hear that she’s making progress. I am reminded of the times I spent with my grandfather when he was ill. He always asked for me to play the Tennessee Waltz and Cotton Eye’d Joe. Though I didn’t know those songs, I did my best and he loved it and sang along, as did the others in the nursing home. It didn’t matter that it was perfect, but only that it was done with love.