Life-Giving

“Then, without making a request for anyone’s attention, Tetsuya Kato began to play. He started with Chopin’s Nocturne opus 9 in E Flat major no 2. It was the piece he had most often heard in his head since coming to this country… The felt-covered hammers tapped the strings gently at first, and the music, even for those who had never heard the piece before, was like a memory. From all over the house, terrorist and hostage alike turned and listened and felt a great easing in their chests. There was a delicacy about Tetsuya Kato’s hands, as if they were simply resting in one place on the keyboard and then in another. Then suddenly his right hand spun out notes like water, a sound so light and high that there was a temptation to look beneath the lid for bells. Kato closed his eyes so he could imagine he was home, playing his own piano. His wife was asleep. His children, two unmarried sons still living with them, were asleep. For them the notes of Kato’s playing had become like air, what they depended on and had long since stopped noticing. Playing on this grand piano now Kato could imagine them sleeping and he put that into the nocturne, his sons’ steady breathing, his wife clutching her pillow with one hand. All of the tenderness he felt for them went into the keys. He touched them as if he meant not to wake them. It was the love and loneliness that each of them felt, that no one had brought himself to speak of.” – Ann Patchett, Bel Canto

I’ve stalked good pianos for most of my life, from churches to lobbies to auditoriums, so it was pretty exciting to finally get our own piano this year—mostly thanks to D, who took advantage of a used piano sale at a local music department because he knew how much I’ve always wanted one. It’s a baby grand, and the sound is incredible. The feel is incredible. I had pretty much forgotten over the past decade how much I love playing. It’s like saying hello again to a part of my being I had forgotten existed; part of me feels recreated.

Other things that make me feel like that—eating caprese salad from fresh tomatoes and basil from the garden, with fresh mozzarella and quality aged balsamic vinegar with oil. On the occasion that I have the excuse to, baking a really good cheesecake. Discovering a new kind of cheese or wine. Taking an art class, the last being a pottery class I took when Ellie was around one year old. Reading a good book, though unfortunately it has to be a really good one, which seems harder to find these days. A conversation that makes me laugh so hard I cry.

D’s sister likes to talk about doing things that are life-giving, and I think that’s a good way of thinking about things like this. Something life-giving leaves you feeling more energized. It helps you not lose the person you are, the person that isn’t related to what you have to do most of the day. It takes some reflection and planning to achieve, since by definition it’s usually something you don’t typically do, or you used to do but don’t anymore, and that takes a certain amount of space, time, materials.

It becomes harder but more important to do after becoming a parent. Tina Fey wrote in her biography about how people are always telling moms to take “me time,” and listed suggestions including grabbing a meal consisting of leftovers while standing over the sink with a kid tugging at your pants—and that’s sort of what it’s like. Or my “me time” is taking a shower. Getting to my email. Usually after a few weeks of this I start getting crabby and D starts ordering me to go do something for myself. And then I actually can’t think of anything to do, which is why it’s good to have thought about it some in advance. What is life-giving for you? How do you make room for it in your life?