When I was younger, I wasn’t always a fan of having to practice piano.
15 or 30 minutes a day, even if I had friends over, I had to sit and practice my chords, songs and drills so I could be ready for my next lesson.
Though I didn’t enjoy it then, throughout the years I have understood why learning music is such a privilege and how important it is to have an appreciation for beautiful melodies.
In elementary school I remember singing Neil Diamond’s Song Sung Blue in the citywide choir recital and we also learned folk songs such as The Ballad Of Davy Crockett, Kumbaya and Home On The Range.
On the special days, we got to play instruments like the triangle, tambourine and recorder. The hand drums came out once in a while as did the long seed stick that sounded like a rain storm.
Like others, over the years I found safety, confidence and solace in music and I’ve always enjoyed an odd mix of genres.
I could (and still can haha) sing full Broadway scores and recite old-school rap songs. Joseph And The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat, Les Mis and Showboat top that list, the lyrics to Biggie and Lauryn Hill songs and the words of Rage Against The Machine never get old.
Praise and worship music is a whole other ball game. Things happen when it’s sung, when it’s played, when it’s meditated upon. It really does.
My bucket list still consists of one day learning the full edition of Rondo Alla Turca on piano and I’ve been teaching myself to play the guitar (with Luke and YouTube’s help :). We have a guitar, ukulele and mini harmonica but a real piano is yet to have a place in our home. One day.
While I strum horribly on the guitar…my fingers barely reaching the notes… I’m still joyful and content knowing that if electronics fail, we will always have song. It also reminds me of the blessing it is be able to hear, read and know the wonderful thing called music.