I treasure the time I have to myself — whether it’s an early morning walk along a seawall, in the local trails with my dog or in my car listening to music from the 70s. I do some of my best thinking when I’m alone.
But the daily reality is that my world (and other people’s as well) is filled with perpetual connection — email, texts, phone calls, social media as well as lots of personal meetings. And while I feel very lucky in both my personal and professional lives, they sometimes appear perpetually busy with connections.
Mobile devices have allowed us to stay connected in ways not possible even a few years ago. In particular, social media has led the way in interconnectedness — Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Messenger, Pinterest — they all allow for wonderful virtual connection and communication. Do a quick internet search and you find that there are literally THOUSANDS of social media apps designed for any number of connections — professional collaboration, sharing of personal events, dating, buying & selling, career exploration, etc.
Let me stop here for a minute to share a story about a recent meeting I had with one of the big educational minds in our world …
Do you ever stand up to go somewhere, walk over and then wonder why you’re there? Happens to me all the time — wait, that doesn’t sound very reassuring. It happens to me some times.
Often walking back to where I came from to trigger the thought that made me leave in the first place.
Doesn’t really leave one with a strong feeling of confidence in my abilities now, does it?
But, if you’re being honest with yourself I bet it happens to you as well.
What is it about our memory that makes some stuff ‘stick’ and other stuff appear to vanish? Looking back to my 20s I can still recall studying for university exams … reading a section of a text book … then reading it again … and again … all to no avail. That page of information just wasn’t going to stay in my head.
Music surrounded me in childhood. My parents encouraged me to include music as part of my educational experience. I took piano lessons; played a band instrument in elementary, junior high and high school; even participated in the chorus of a high school musical (Fiddler on the Roof). In university I had a part-time job teaching in a community marching band.
I found music relaxing — finding that it somehow satisfied an area within me that wasn’t been addressed through my academic studies. I felt calmer when I listened to music, played music or taught music — a different area of my brain was being exercised. And like our sense of smell that has been proven to have an incredibly powerful linkage to our emotions, when I became involved with music I somehow felt better.