Or taken for “granite” as I think I said as a child.
I sort of like using granite instead– like believing something is like a really hard stone that will be around forever. It totally makes sense.
Last night as I was warming up on stage for band rehearsal and listening to all the scales and snippets of music surrounding me, I suddenly had one of those rare moments of clarity.
Music is such an important part of my life, but I realized that I rarely, if ever, truly acknowledge this fact. Or even think about how fortunate I am to have musical abilities and also a variety of ensembles in which to participate.
Ever since I was little, music has surrounded me and flowed through me– binding together my life’s chapters with a common theme. So much so that to me, music just is. It’s a constant, like Avogadro’s number. Or gravity.
How lucky am I that I can play trombone and baritone? And piano? And sing? And write music?? And how lucky am I that I’ve played in concert bands and orchestras and drum corps and sung in choirs and musical theater productions??
Music truly is my rock, my foundation, my core. And one that I really shouldn’t take for granite.