This morning I scurried around the kitchen at around 4:44 AM. I was making casseroles and more casseroles and cutting potatoes and making more casseroles. And in this beautiful casserole frenzy I was reminded of two things: how fun it is to prepare food for others in the comfort of a home in the spirit of hospitality. And how just encountering the mere act of the sun rising really allows you to acknowledge and understand and appreciate the simplicity and yet complexity of the blessings of a new day. Watching that sun rise through the window just lifted my very being. Sometimes we need that reminder that days are individual entities with a rising and the falling of that same sun-no blurred lines. 

Today was a family gathering-a celebration of sorts for my husband's little sister Jenny who happens to be a sophomore in high school. This year, she made PMEA State orchestra-a remarkable accomplishment. And that sun rising brough me back to those many years ago where I woke up early in the city of Pittsburgh (around 5:00 AM) on the days of my state concert (and my brother's.) I remember watching the sun rise out the window overlooking the city of Pittsburgh which then felt like the largest city in the world.  Too excited to fall asleep. Too excited to eat breakfast. Thinking about the PMEA concert to take place. And though I was watching not playing this time that rising sun glimmered hope and love and a new kind of nostalgic spirit back into my heart as I wandered up the escalators to the stage I had played in. Looking around at the high schoolers with their medals and those itchy band uniforms, new smiles, proud smiles, walks of pride and adventure and new beginnings and for many a final mark in their high school music career. Realizing how young they looked. And how old I felt. And how, in the blink of an eye, if you aren't careful, life can just speed away. 

And I said a little prayer to myself as I was listening. A quiet prayer and a hope that every student on that stage would remember this moment for many years. That they would embrace the experience. Play with their whole being. Because as I sat there listening to the music, I could not help but realize just how profound a moment it was to be on the other side. How strange and yet magical and even a bit sorrowful. But I remember thinking to myself those many years ago on that same morning I looked out my window at the city of Pittsburgh just how important this moment was. And that no matter how fleeting it may seem, it was a memory that would last forever. It would always be life changing. And it is. And it was. 

They say at the end of your lifetime you will be able to count your closest friends on one hand (maybe two) and I think the same is true for memories. And that All-State memory among countless other musical memories I had in high school will remain with me forever. Because there is something about failing so many times and then finally succeeding that really stays with a person. Because on that morning when the sun rose I realized that nothing is ever impossible. That drive and grit and overwhelming perserverance always remain the most important quality. That when life looks dismal, the sun will come out to play as long as that is what YOU want it to do. That the third time is a charm. That it is in your power to create the memories you desire. That anyone can be a music-maker of peace if they want it badly enough. That old memories never die. That sometimes it is those single moments that remain the most powerful-not necessarily the repetitive ones. 

And I'll never forget the moment those All-State names were called out on stage at our final Region Band rehearsal. Thinking to myself: Did I fail again? Thinking to myself: Am I good enough? Thinking to myself? Will the sun rise? And it did. The last name called. One of purest moments I have ever experienced. Immedietely looking to see my brother smiling at me. 

It seems silly. All those hours of practicing. The desire for just some silly concert. The tears cried. The sweat poured. Until you finally are able to pinpoint why it was so important. It wasn't important for me to boast or brag. It wasn't important think about what "chair" I placed. For me, I wanted a seat on the stage where I could feel that sense that there is a greater purpose in our lifetime than just "winning always" and "succeeding always." Because the music makers of the world-it's a team sport. Because for me, musicians coming from all walks of life was a taste of that wordly-spirit." 

Life is nothing without a passion and a desire to do better. To be better. To love the world's music infinitely. The sun will always rise. That is, only if you want it to. Surround yourself by music makers. Let that drive your love and your passion. Congratulations to you, Jenny. Thank you for being one of the world's music-makers.