By Charles
My love of music is a lighthouse. It shines out over the sea of my life, and no matter where I go or what I do, it is there. A constant beacon on the shoreline, guiding me past rocky shoals and into safe harbor.
Some of my earliest memories: • My mother playing the dulcimer; the hammers ringing against the strings with sudden brilliance, and the ghostly echoes resonating in the copper toned wooden frame • Pounding on the keyboard of the console piano at my grandma’s house, being yelled at for not treating the instrument with respect, but not before the booming jangle filled me up with joy • The pressure in my chest every time a band marched by in a parade, and the inability to judge whether it came from the booming bass drums or my yearning to join them
I thought music would be my life, so I chased it, following its siren call wherever it led. I skipped school to play Christmas music at the mall. I have ridden in a van with people I just met at a vocal recital for a chance to sing in a barbershop choir for a night. I tried to cover six different parts for the pit orchestra to Into the Woods, experiencing the joy of pushing my abilities to their limit and the devastation of the reality of my failure.
More memories: • Smoothies after a concert with friends who made each other laugh so hard that the coffee shop employees told us we had to leave • Ice cold pizza with crust like cardboard tasting like magic as my body tried to contain the excitement and anticipation for my first performance in front of 50,000 college football fans • The emotional intimacy built with colleagues who are now spread out across the country but live forever just a downbeat away in my heart
A lighthouse isn’t a life. It is a tool. People work there, and I can visit. I can even stay and direct the light for other people in my life. I can shine bright and cast away shadows and fill myself with purpose and passion for the light. But as I learn more about myself, I find balance to be key.
I can build a house on the shoreline.
I can give my love to my family and my friends.
I can work and play and create.
But I also can bask in the light from time to time or take a trip around the bay. As long as I have the light in my life, I can find my way to joy.