Thankful #4. Music.

Music has always been a part of my life. I have been playing piano since I was five. Unfortunately, I stopped lessons when I went to college. But I still play whenever I can. Learning to play an instrument is actually a beautiful process because progress is tangible. When I first started at five, my hands were hardly big or strong enough to even press a note. My piano teacher (who would go on to teach me for the next twelve years) saw the determination in my eyes, and waived his policy of not taking children younger than reading age. (But then again, I had already taught myself to read). I remember playing Old McDonald that year. A Lion King songbook followed when I was around nine. When I was about fourteen, I began playing authentic classical pieces as written by composers like Mozart or Bach (not simplified...the originals). It took me about five or six months to perfect one of these masterpieces, but when I did (although I did not love practicing), I cannot explain how proud I felt. I was of the music.

Besides making my own music, I have always found songs to be expressions of my innermost thoughts. Sometimes, I hear a song and feel like it was written by me or for me. We have all had that experience at one point in time, I'm sure. My family laughs at me because I can hear certain songs on the radio and remember how old I was or what I was doing when it came out.

But it all really began at the beginning. I remember my mom would sing me "You Are My Sunshine" every night when she tucked me in. I also remember the song "Butterfly Kisses," very well, which seems particularly poignant now.

In third grade, Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys were my soundtrack. I know, I wasn't very original. But who could resist "Ooops I Did It Again" on cassette?! Recess was spent devising new choreography that would make B-Spears jealous. (Note: I sadly remember most of it).

More recently, I have found myself playing and replaying songs that remind me of the clubs in Italy. Some of these songs are ones that I didn't even like before I went abroad, but now remind me of a glorious time in my life so I can't help but enjoy them. Others were new to me when I heard them in Italy, such as one popular club song in a language I'm unfamiliar with that just puts a smile on my face every time.

But isn't that what music does? It stirs up our emotions, our souls. It propels us into the past, to a euphoric or depressing time or place. It gives us the beat and words that make our deepest thoughts more tangible. And, in a way, music is just what I need to keep me sane.