Thursday, August 19, 2010

shadow journal

Have you ever loved a song, album or musician so badly that you couldn't wait to share it with your children?

Where anytime you listen to the music you rush to them, scoop them up and hold them so tight you can feel their hearts beating through their chests and you are unsure if its because they feel the thrill of the sound or are just excited because you are?

One of my favorite musicians Max Richter came out with an album several weeks ago entitled Infra. I downloaded it and on a Monday morning the three of us listened to it. Each for the first time.

Truth be told, I don’t think they really cared, but for me it was one of those moments. When art picks you up, beats you briefly and then recedes. And when its gone the direction of the wind has changed.

Moments like that remind me that the world is full of so many little-big lessons to teach them. And moments of restraint. {For instance, the other day we looked at a fountain and I nearly waded in with them, one tucked under each arm. But I didn’t.}

Like the other day, a song came on the radio - the new Eminem. I reached for the knob to change it as Henry and Sophia were in the back faux-talking quietly and chewing a teething ring. Squeak. Squeak.

I stopped.

And decided to leave the station on.

Sacrilegious I know! Call the mothering police! To allow my children to listen to such controversial lyrics?! Space where expletives used to be?! What’s wrong with me!

But I just couldn’t change it.

In that moment, I decided I couldn't, in good faith, shield them from music. I have to let things happen. I do believe it is okay for them to know that there are different conversations going on in the world. Different levels of sadness,
     Of knowing
          Of aching.

Like the story of the ‘Cellist of Sarajevo’ - where do the stories stop that I can share with them? The powerful ones that break hearts and sparkle like embers?

In other news, the other day Henry learned about shadows.

Now that’s a way to mess with your infant’s developing sense of object permanence.

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