Thursday, January 27, 2011
This morning while sitting at my desk, I leaned over to pull a book from a bag on the floor. I stopped. What was that? I could just barely detect faint strains of . . . music. It didn't take long for me to realize that my head was right next to the CD player. (My powers of deduction are really quite astonishing.)
I usually keep the classical music station playing in the school room during the day. At times I'm forced to turn it down. If a child starts practicing the piano or smackin' away at the snare, down goes Mozart. That must have happened yesterday. Only I never turned it all the way off. Just down. And it had been playing all along.
If we listen carefully -- oh, so carefully -- we'll hear it. The faintest strains will gain strength and momentum as our ears learn to detect the music. We'll tune out the distracting, discordant din and focus on the beauty. And we'll realize that it's been there all along.
Childhood Idyll by Adolphe-William Bouguereau 1900