Today I played a Jembe...

Not sure if you know what a jembe is, but its a drum. I don't consider myself as having time to do a number of hobbies that I would like to attempt, or continue. To ascertain a skill takes considerable effort...usually. Today all my effort was, was the simply rhythm of a drum. I attended one of the most beautiful days that takes place during my year. October. It is a mother's rest and rejuv at a church in the north part of the city. A large group of moms, all caregivers of a special needs child get to come and be honored, and pampered. We get brunch, and a coffee bar, and there is baskets of chocolate at every corner. There is laughing, and crying, and time to reflect. There is always an inspiring speaker that makes you tilt your life's perspective, and there is dessert, and massage, and I wish this was a national holiday. But today. Today I got to try something different. Music therapy for mothers. What a concept. I envisioned we would all be holding hands singing Farmer in the Dell (the song I most often hear Chandler humming after music therapy). I laughed inside when she passed around the bag of egg shakers. But then she asked us to stand. What's that? You want us to make a circle? Oh dear. Song time with little plastic eggs...I feared the chanting. But I was mistaken. We passed them with one hand out, to receive our neighbors egg shaker. It was rhythm, and your eyes are closed, and it feels..peaceful. Faster and faster you go, until some of the eggs are dropped and there is laughter and a light mood in the air, so we sit now with our instruments. Whichever we choose. A drum, a cow bell, a wood block, and we played "build a groove". You play what you are feeling and turn to look to your neighbor to pass on the music, and they add their own beat. It is one of the coolest things I have ever heard. I was so taken with the feeling of the music, I didn't stop to think about how my kids were getting along with the babysitter. Or how many homework assignments were looming over me. Your body moves without thinking, unintentional rhythm. Is this how it is when my son is in music therapy? Feeling the music without a care in the world? Letting it take him to his happiest place? I hope so, Chandler. I hope you are moved and motivated by the songs, and the beats. This is not the musical therapy I was picturing. Every day my eyes are open a little bit more. The code is cracked just a little bit more, and I got a glimpse of your world today, and what you love. Priceless.