The Year is Complete!

Please feel free to look back through the 365 days of 2010 sunrises, but "a year of getting up to meet the day" is officially completed. There will be no more new posts.


Thank you so much for visiting.
A one year blog project in which I share a process of transitions: emptying of the nest, reacquainting with my rusty intellect, plowing onward with my first full length book, entering the second half of my first century, and generally reflecting on life.

(see Dec. 29th, 2009 entry for further explanation)

Thursday, January 28, 2010

music to my ears

sunrise: 7:00

Here is a new sunrise view.

It's taken from the driveway of the middle school where I will be the piano accompanist for a show choir at 7:10 twice a week.  I've done this for 7 or 8 years now, but I imagine it's one of the things that will end when my last daughter graduates from high school.

Playing the piano is another one of those things in my life that serves a therapeutic purpose.  I've never achieved anything like professional ability, but I can make music beautiful enough to please me, and sometimes other people as well.

When I was a child, I had an uncle who sometimes came to our house and played our piano with overwhelming passion.  He was a brilliant musician and composer, but a troubled man.  I didn't really understand either of those things when I was 6 or 7, but I was entranced by his music.  And I'll never forget finding him one day sitting at the piano, quiet.  He was leaning over the keyboard, his head laying on his hands where the music usually goes.  I asked if he was all right, and he said he was just resting.  He sounded so weary.  A few years later he took his own life and I always felt sad that I couldn't have done something for him when he was sad at the piano that day.

Who knows how much that influenced my piano love, but by the time I was 11, I was begging for lessons.  The piano is an outlet for emotions, a place to get lost, to be moved, to let off steam, to express joy or anger or crazy love.

Three years ago, when my twin son and daughter were about to graduate, I knew I needed to start thinking about creating a new life for myself that did not involve parenting.  Writing and piano playing were my top choices, and I felt that writing demanded too much uninterrupted time.  So I started lessons again.  It has been immensely satisfying to see that I can still get better at something even when I'm pushing 50 years old. 

Having an audience every month or two when I play for church services is the perfect motivation to keep working on pieces.  There are few things that I have done that feel better than creating an atmosphere that impels people to close their eyes, or smile, or sway, or sing along, or put a hand to their chest, or take a deep breath and feel.  I love to help people feel.

Sunrise is another facilitator to feeling.  That's the best part about it.  Do you suppose this crow has any concept of beauty around him?

I doubt it - birdbrain that he is.  But still, he's a facilitator to feeling.  Don't you wish you could see a sunrise from a bird's perspective?


  1. I know what you mean by therapeutic because I'm a singer. Singing a high note, which is really a controlled scream, can do wonders. Cantoring in my church motivates me to keep my voice in shape and affords me the opportunity to do solo singing. When I can make people feel - even if they shed a tear or two, it's thrilling. Re the bird's perspective. Yes, I think it would be wonderful indeed. However, it's only 17 degrees here today, and I wouldn't want to see anything from their perspective on a day like this.

  2. I think we're going below 0 tonight! Thanks for your thoughts--