the music of what happens... future fridays

I am putting this here as a reminder for myself and for anyone who needs to hear it. 

As I continue to struggle, trying to find my place in this world as a musician, the daily choice to catch up on work or to spend my few precious minutes practicing is maddening. It is so very hard to find the balance of drive, time, enjoyment, and freedom to pursue that refinement I am searching for in order to be proud of my musician identity and to share it publicly.

And now, the laugh of a gleeful girl now 368 days old has become more important to me as I am so acutely aware of how quickly this time with her evaporates. 

A friend used this excerpt as the inspiration for a piece he wrote, and I find it so endearing.

Once, as they rested on a chase, a debate arose among the Fianna as to what was the finest music in the world.

“Tell us that,” said Fionn turning to Oisín,
“The cuckoo calling from the tree that is highest in the hedge,” cried his merry son.
“A good sound,” said Fionn. “And you, Oscar,” he asked, “what is to your mind the finest of music?”
“The top of music is the ring of a spear on a shield,” cried the stout lad.
“It is a good sound,” said Fionn. And the other champions told their delight; the belling of a stag across water, the baying of a tuneful pack heard in the distance, the song of a lark, the laugh of a gleeful girl, or the whisper of a moved one.
“They are good sounds all,” said Fionn.
“Tell us, chief,” one ventured, “what you think?”
“The music of what happens,” said great Fionn, “that is the finest music in the world.”


- Tales of the Boyhood of Fionn,
Irish traditional

via {sacred texts}