Missing the Music

The men of Measure for Measure

Sunday afternoon I was privileged to hear 85 fine men in concert, and even more proud that my very talented husband was one of them.  These men have been singing together for over 20 years, and have a camaraderie that makes their music all the sweeter. Their director is a young man I can only call genius. He stands tall and slender, directs without ever looking at a piece of music, and his fluid motion calls forth such excellence and beauty that it’s nothing short of a miracle.

As much as I enjoyed Sunday’s concert, it left me wanting more.

More music in my life.

Ten years ago, my life was filled with musical activity. There were times when I would have said overfilled – too much of a good thing. I accompanied a very active high school choral program, played in a very active professional handbell ensemble, sang and rang bells in my church choirs.

When I started my office job, I had to pare down all those musical activities. The school job went first, then the handbell group. Over the past couple of years I’ve opted out of church choirs, too. I’ve been accompanying for a middle school choral program, but this year their concert coincided with the time I was in Texas, so I wasn’t able to do that either.

I was oddly surprised to realize that this Christmas season I am doing absolutely nothing musical.

Zip. Nada.

It’s so easy to let things slip out of our lives, little by little, until before we know it they’re gone. We quickly cover the chasm with other activities and sometimes don’t even realize it’s there.

Until we fall in it.

I fell in it Sunday afternoon, listening to those glorious voices raised in song, cheering with the hundreds of other people on their feet at the end of the program. Wow, I thought. I used to do things like that. I used to make music happen.

Where did it go?

In the way of fate or serendipity, the director of my handbell choir was in the audience last Sunday. As we talked about the program and how uplifting it had been, she said this:

“I’m really glad I ran into you. The group is going to Bronzefest in February and I could really use another ringer. It’s just a six week commitment. Would you be interested?”

My first impulse was to say no.  I’ve gotten into the habit of turning down musical activity because I didn’t have time, or didn’t want to have too many commitments during the time my grandson was expected to be born.

But those things no longer apply. So why not?

“Let me think about it for a few days,” I answered, still cautious. “I’ll let you know by Tuesday.”

Friends, I’m sure you’ve guessed my final answer.

It will be good to step back into the musical waters again. I’ve been missing it more than I realized.

How about you? Is there an activity that you’ve let slip out of your life and now find yourself missing?

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Missing the Music

  1. I’m glad you found a way to bring music back into your life (which reminds me of The Sound of Music, ‘You brought music back into this house!’ says the handsome Captain) I am with you. The activities I miss most are playing the piano and singing. A new year is coming, maybe I will find my way towards those things.

  2. This happened with my writing for many years during my TV career. When I finally found my way back to my journal, I couldn’t ignore it’s therapeutic, healing effect. My family and I have also found a church after many years of not really going. It’s great to be reconnected with the music, especially during the Christmas season.

  3. Dear B, so glad to hear you’re headed back into bellringing! There’s so much joy in so many things but it’s grand to seize hold of what one loves and become a part of it! I think I hear doors opening up…and music comeing out…!!!!
    Enjoy, and Happy Christmas!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s