Slow down and smell the mistletoe

Tis the season. My seventh grader is not only an athlete, but also very musically inclined. So, of course, that means we’ve been inundated with musical engagements to celebrate the season. Last night, junior high band concert. Tonight, junior high choir concert. Sunday, piano recital.

I’ve never been the kind of person who lets their emotions run away with them. I don’t cry at weddings, and rarely during movies (books, sometimes) so I found it surprising that I started tearing up a little during the band concert. Don’t get me wrong, the kids did a great job, but they’re no Boston Pops. And it wasn’t just maternal pride. It was often during numbers my daughter wasn’t playing in.

So, as I sat analyzing my reaction, it occurred to me how easily we all get sucked into the grind of our lives to the point were we’re just living it and not experiencing it. Especially this time of year.

I know—seems like a little bit of a jump from getting choked up at a band concert to an existential transformation, but that’s how it happened. And it really reminded me how art in general, and music in specific, transcends all levels of consciousness.

So, moral of the story—for me, at least: Slow down and smell the roses—or coffee, or whatever. And hear the music—and other stuff too.

You get it.