How many among us shared nights like this, were dropped off in front of tract homes for hour-long piano sessions of extreme boredom? Rooms too quiet for living. Grateful to hear the screen door slam behind us as our motherÂ’s car pulled finally up. The damned metronome ticking stopped. The mind could speed up or slow down at will again. Childhood moments uncounting, racing down Schwinn streets, hiding quiet in trees, swimming underwater where it was quietest of all, only the small ear sounds of the day cracking open.
–Lisa Thompson of field notes
A Mindful Life / Kathryn Harper
express : discover : renew : create
“rooms too quiet to live” what a great line — I grew up in some of those. I had a piano student’s revenge — this sounds horrible, but it happened: my teacher dropped dead of a heart attack after trying to teach me the proper way to hold my hands over the piano. Ah yes, I remember. (This was the teacher who forbade my brother to play in one of her recitals because he chewed gum in time to the music.. .)