Brushed the dust off the ol’ flute this morning
I must admit, I am a very simple person. Simple things get me excited and fulfill my day to day joys, whether it be a walk/run on the beach, a cup of tea, talking to an old friend back in the Midwest or reading the funnies. Sometimes I forget how simple life can be and how fun I can make it if I just stop and take it all in.
I had another encounter with that this morning.
Yesterday I was asked to play my flute to accompany a song in church. Most of you are like, “Wait a minute, Lois plays a musical instrument?”
Yes, actually, two or three, in fact. Flute, piano and piccolo. Not all at once, however, I took eight years of piano lessons and nearly as many flute/piccolo lessons over my childhood/teenage years.
However, I literally had to brush off the dust and cobwebs this morning as I pulled my flute out of the box in the garage. I was actually very happy that I could remember where the flute was or that I even had it.
It brought back soooooo many memories. Have you been there?
I remembered my old man (not my band director, believe it or not) showing me how to blow into my flute as if I was blowing into a pop bottle in order to make my first real sound. It worked! My dad did know more than I thought he did!
I saw myself in marching band in the wind and rain, wearing my God-awful black and gold (we called ourselves the bumble bees) marching band uniform, all the while my fingers were frozen and I couldn’t feel the keys on my flute.
I saw myself playing an improv jazz flute solo (I guess my perception of improv for me was that I had no idea what I was playing and neither did anyone else!!).
I remembered the daily 30 minutes I practiced as a diligent young woman so that I could make the honor band and nail that three-octave chromatic scale.
To my surprise as I opened up my flute case, there was an old song and a note in there that had been there since college (1999!). I smiled to myself as I realized I had done nothing with this well-used piece of Gemeinhardt metal in nearly a decade.
I took a few deep breaths, cracked open the church hymnal to page 338 and stumbled through the first two lines of the song, so appropriately entitled, “‘Tis the Gift to Be Simple”.
After a few run throughs, feeling already tired in my cheeks and lips (AND re-teaching myself how to breathe, play, breathe, play), I smiled to myself.
“It is just like riding a bike!” I thought.
I kept playing.
Soon I was adding some vibrato, taking fewer breath breaks and happily feeling more tired in my lips/mouth.
Then I actually read the words to the song and I smiled again.
“‘Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free, ’tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right, ‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.”
Life lessons can come at any moment. Even in the “simple” moments of taking out the ol’ flute and dusting her off to play a church hymn. I relish these moments. I hope you do too.
I encourage you to get out your flute or your trumpet or your bike, your…..whatever, dust it off and test ride it again. It might inspire you to see life in its simplest form again…..and that, my friends, is what makes life (especially in today’s world) that much more meaningful.
It’s a good life!
Wednesday, September 24th, 2008