Tag Archives: Music

Jan 26 2013
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Health, Home, Life, Teaching, Writing

Week 21: A Week of Somedays & Giving

The past two weeks my goal has been simple. Write less, relax more. The result, however, was unexpected. Sure, it was nice to relax, but time actually passed faster, not slower after work. Without my routine of an hour or so of writing each night, time melted together into one big blob each evening. I felt restless and a little less happy. Proof enough I need to write.

In the midst of this whole experiment, life has been full of moments. The detailed death of funky monkey, one of my more imaginative student’s gigantic stuffed animals. The stunned looked on innocent faces after a terrible accident. The child who brought a thermos of coffee to school for his ADHD and sat like a little old man with his Japanese zen cup looking out the window to drink it. Tumultuous political discourse. Plumbing failures and late night communal with nature.

Maybe that’s the plus side of slowing down. More time to notice the details, pleasant and otherwise, that will someday add texture to my writing. More time to laugh at the craziness. I’m just not good at slowing down. I fight it. Time disappears and feels somehow wasted.

At least the Seven Spiritual Laws of Success was part of this downtime. I have it playing on loop in my car. I’m determined I need to hear it more than once. It resonates. It reminded me to live without judgment, (have you tried this? I had to laugh at the irony of watching someone litter out their window as these words played for the second time…).

My favorite principle, however, is about giving. Give to everyone you meet, whether it be a blessing, a compliment, or something material. I don’t know why I love this one so much, but I do. I give to my students everyday and this is one of those things that fuels my being. The idea of consciously giving to everyone I meet is exhilarating. Reminds me of a fellow blogger who blesses all the other cars along the morning commute.

Not sure what I’m giving you today, other than a rambling mess of words about life, but you are giving me a gift by reading them. I’m beginning to realize giving and receiving are really the same thing. Thank you.

On second thought, I know what I’ll give you. My favorite music videos of the morning. The first for its message that home is about people, the second because the kids will make you smile:

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Jan 08 2013
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Life, Teaching

The Girl With the Purple Guitar

Today I have to share one of my favorite moments of my teaching career so far. As a creative alternative to our book report over break, one student asked if she could learn a song from Hunger Games to play for the class. I agreed and she did a beautiful job connecting the lyrics of the song to her reading.

This morning her mom showed up with her guitar in a big box. We weren’t going to present today, but since her guitar was already in class, I let her go as the first and only student for the day. Late in the afternoon, when students are usually too wiggly to sit still, we gathered on the carpet and she pulled out her pretty little purple guitar.

A bundle of nerves, she asked if we could close our eyes. With the sweetest ten-year old voice, she sang Taylor Swift’s “Eyes Open” as she strummed along. The whole class covered their eyes and swayed back and forth, mesmerized. In the middle, she messed up and asked to start over. This time she told everyone they could uncover their eyes. She played the song again, beautifully, with 30 pairs of eyes on her. When she finished, the room erupted in cheers.

It was one of those moments I wish I had on film. So sweet and filled with emotion. I wanted to cry as I watched her. She was so nervous, but she forced herself to be brave and do it anyway. It took at least five years for me to let Alex hear me sing. She sang to a room of ten and eleven year-olds with a presence, grace, and soul uncommon in most adult performers.

I guess you can say I’m glad to be back to work with my students. It always takes a couple days, but I get there.

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Jan 04 2013
3 Comments
Dogs, Family, Home, Life, Pets, Teaching, Writing

I Get Lost in My Mind

This morning I awoke earlier than usual to my dog convulsing at the edge of my bed. Worried he might vomit, I shooed him straight out the door to the backyard. Then I realized he could hardly walk. He was shaking. He could not breathe. I scooped him in my arms and wrapped him in a blanket. I held him on the couch until his breath steadied and his body was still.

I was afraid he was going to die. I breathed and whispered sweet words to him. I reminded myself of my childhood dog and her seizures. I convinced myself it was those stupid flea pills. He let me hold him for an eternity, then shook it off, ate breakfast, and went back to sleep.

The last couple days I have been lost in my mind. Yesterday, I wrote almost the entire day. I finished part of an essay to prove to the state of California that I deserve a clear teaching credential, (as if my survival through a grueling residency program and my first year on my own were not enough). I poured two or more hours back into my pitch, sculpting word by word.

When I write, I often disappear from everything else. I get sucked so deep into my mind that the day disappears into darkness. Sometimes I forget to eat. Last night I forced myself to take a break to do yoga. Pandora playing in the background, I wrote down the name of this song. This morning, after Simon was tucked back into my spot in bed, I sat and listened. Then I cried. I get so lost in my mind. I’m grateful to be awake.

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Dec 13 2012
4 Comments
Family, Home, Life

It Won’t Be Long Before Another Day…

I remember being three or four years old. My mom would turn on my little cassette of lullabies and lie down next to me until I fell asleep each afternoon, the curtains drawn, darkness tricking me into a nap. Snuggled up to my mom, I felt loved, safe. The feeling is so real, even twenty-five years later, I can still see the light hitting the back of those curtains, feel the warmth of her arms holding onto me, hear her voice gently singing me to sleep.

Time is a funny thing. I can reach back and touch that memory even though thousands of others have slipped by unnoticed. Makes me wonder what I will hold onto from now.

Tonight, I share a little piece of me from twenty-five years ago, a song I caught myself singing while I made dinner tonight. As a kid, I swore it was written for me and my mom. Now, it means even more. A time capsule from the past. 

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Nov 14 2012
9 Comments
Life, Travel

To Ireland & Back Again

In an effort to leave my day behind, I often switch Pandora to mellow music after work. Tonight I picked Enya and found myself back in Ireland, three and a half years ago.

The smiling reason we went to Ireland, my brother. This is the closest to actually smiling I could catch him in a picture, but when he smiles, the whole world smiles…

We arrived early in the morning. My brother had been working on an organic farm just outside Dublin and he met us at the airport, skinnier than I remembered but smiling ear to ear. We climbed into a little red Fiat and Alex took the wheel on the right side of the car. At first I closed my eyes, afraid to watch as he adjusted to the whirling roundabouts. Fotunately, I quickly gained trust in his ability to navigate the other side of the road. We headed straight to Glendalough, known for its 6th century monastery, an hour outside Dublin.

Our trusty Fiat.

After a cold morning walk through the ruins, we headed to town in search of food. Not even three hours off the plane and we were greeted by the warmest hospitality in all of Europe. It began as a man on the street invited us inside a neighborhood pub for a drink. It could not have been past ten in the morning, but here this man already wanted to buy us alcohol. I declined, choosing tea instead, but my brother and Alex indulged in some mid-morning Irish beer. Food followed, as well as games of pool with an already drunk old man named Seamus. A coincidence because my brother’s name is the same.

The first man told us all kinds of stories about his family castle and this and that. His stories made me skeptical. He kept talking about his sister “Anya” and how she was the prized musician who left the family band. I thought, yeah, alright, so what– but he would not give up. He kept talking about her, like we should know her. Finally it clicked. “OHHHH, Enya!” I exclaimed, pronouncing her name wrong despite my realization of who she was. He looked a little disappointed.

Turns out our first gracious host in Ireland was Ciaran Brennan, a member of Clannad, (whose picture Alex later spotted hanging in the Guinness Factory). He wrote music for the Last of the Mohicans,U2, the list goes on. He knew all kinds of famous people and was not shy to tell us this– stories upon stories to impress. Now, I’ve never been one to fawn over famous people, let alone famous people who I could not identify on my own. However, his hospitality and persistence on welcoming us to Ireland won my respect.

Turns out Ireland was full of warm people who made us feel welcome, who took care of us like we were long-lost family. He was just the first. Tonight, Enya playing through Pandora, I returned to Ireland for a brief moment and remembered why I love Irish music, Irish people, and Ireland. I love it so much that we hired an Irish trio to play at our wedding. It’s in my O’Brien blood, I guess. Pandora and Enya did the trick, today is gone.

My favorite spot on the entire island, the Dingle Peninsula.

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Oct 07 2012
8 Comments
Life

Sunday Song: Slow it Down

Standing in the middle of a sea of people, I closed my eyes and tried to make everything stand still around me. Large crowds and too much noise overwhelm my senses. However, when the Lumineers took the stage, I was able to shut off everything else and just absorb the music.

This song was one that followed me home, the words etched into my brain. A perfect Sunday song, with a message I really need. Slow it Down. My goal every Sunday. Should be my goal other days as well, but Sundays are a good place to start.

Hope you find a way to slow it down today as well.

Happy Sunday.

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Sep 04 2012
12 Comments
Life, Writing

Stop Chasing Unambiguous Happiness

Driving home this evening, listening to NPR describe “Why We’re Happy Being Sad,” I could not help but reflect on the concept of unambiguous happiness.

I am arguably obsessed with understanding happiness.  After all, my book is titled Expecting Happiness, the Happiness Project inspired me to start writing, and I have been chasing happiness in one form or another since childhood.  Many of us have, right?

That’s the thing.  Chasing happiness makes it sound unattainable, which is untrue.  I just think NPR touches on something real.  Most of us have a complex type of happiness.  In fact, I can’t think of anyone I know personally who doesn’t.

Maybe that’s the secret, stop chasing unambiguous happiness.

Putting it on my list of things to do.

For now, a little more ambiguously (un)happy music.  I have a thing for songs where people shout “Hey” this week, be warned.

And, I have a soft spot for these bookstore-recorded, rawly emotional gems, (probably because they were recorded in a bookstore…):

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Aug 26 2012
2 Comments
Family, Home, Life

Sunday Song

Sunday is childhood, the changing seasons, school the next day, family breakfast, homework, falling leaves, apple hill.  Sunday is family, newspaper scattered in different sections throughout the living room.  Sunday is walking the dog the long way round, potatoes with garlic and bell peppers, the sofa with my manuscript, yoga pants, dog squished up against me.  Sunday is a couple hours’ solitude.  Sunday is a drive up the hill for dinner outside, one big family, laughing, crying, together.

Sunday is life without tomorrow, life with tomorrow, life now.  Sunday is sacred.  Sunday is old and new, happy and sad, nostalgia and duality.  Sunday makes me hold on tight to everyone I love.

Sunday is family.

 

 

 

 

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Aug 17 2012
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Family, Life

To Be With You

Hurtling down an unknown highway, sitting in the middle of a crowded minivan filled with people from various points in my life, I died in my dream tonight.  As I was declared gone, all my lives were listed off, some men, mostly women, a ratio that was oddly pleasing.  However, as the list was read, I panicked.  I was afraid there was no turning back.  I still had so much to do, I still wanted to be with you.

Then I was reassured we’d still be together, in time, if that is what we wanted.  Once I trusted this was true, I was alright.  All the while, “To Be With You” played loudly in my head.  As if on cue, my husband crawled into bed, waking me, rousing me to say, “I have good news… I’ll still get to be with you.”

Then I cried, knowing how much I hoped my words to be true, because deep inside all I want is to be with you.  Song still playing loudly in my head, I grabbed the laptop, and we watched the music video together, the lyrics forcing more tears down my cheeks.  The moment passed, my husband quickly fell asleep, cat and dog breathing quietly nearby, our sweet little family that I never want to give up, me still awake, softly singing, maybe even still crying.  All because someone emailed me a lip sync rendition of that song yesterday.

I share because I’d like nothing better than for this to be true.  Also because I hope the thoughts will stop swirling through my head and that now I’ll be able to go to sleep.

Hold on, little girl
Show me what he’s done to you
Stand up, little girl
A broken heart can’t be that bad
When it’s through, it’s through
Fate will twist the both of you
So come on, baby, come on over
Let me be the one to show you

I’m the one who wants to be with you
Deep inside I hope you’ll feel it too
Waited on a line of greens and blues 
Just to be the next to be with you…

Good night.

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Aug 11 2012
2 Comments
Teaching

The First Week of School, Again

I don’t want to jinx anything by saying this, but teaching the same group the second time around is already a thousand times better.  I just finished my first week of school with my fifth graders and it’s incredible to realize how much I have grown since my first week of school last year.  I now know when to move on to a new activity even when it’s not in my plans and when to stop and let the class guide the direction of our day.  I also know the value of fun.

Yesterday, my students started their own philosophical debate about the inherent easiness or difficulty of life.  Instead of finishing our read aloud, we moved into a big circle for our discussion, spurred by the respectful disagreement between two of my historically toughest students.  One thought life was basically easy, the other thought life was basically hard.  Unsurprisingly, in a group of predominantly low-income kids, most sided with the student that said life was basically hard.  Still, their comments were surprisingly respectful and well-crafted, giving me hope for a year full of high level thinking and debate.

While this was definitely a highlight of my day yesterday, the best part came at the very end.  My class is known to be loud during clean-up, leaving me to petty strategies like m&ms for the first group silent and ready, (it works).  But when that same student that started the debate requested I play his One Direction cd, (earned by his fantastic behavior, of course), I obliged.  At first I naively requested the students clean up silently while the first track played, but then I realized it was no use.

Fun prevailed.  The entire class broke out into song, with a couple dancers here and there, and I decided it was better to let them be happy and have fun than to worry about whether they were following my directions for silence.  Fortunately, the room looked amazing as a result, so half my directions were still followed.  They just looked so darn happy.  And, that kid was one smart boy. The girls loved him for it.  If you want to make a room full of fifth graders happy, One Direction is apparently the answer.

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Jul 13 2012
2 Comments
Life, Travel

Kicking it Old School

Oh gloriously happy day, an old friend was just brought back from the dead.  My new MacBook has roused my little old school pink iPod mini from at least five years of sleep.  It took a few tries, I didn’t think it was going to happen, but then it lit back to life.  Talk about time capsule.  This baby is filled with all the wondrous stuff I listened to in college– Drop it like it’s hot, anyone?

Okay, I did not just admit to that, there are plenty of songs I’d rather take credit for having on there, as well as some impressively intellectual podcasts (what in the world was I thinking?), but for some reason it’s the rap I’m sitting here reliving.  Laid back.  I can feel my feet hitting the dirt trails in Davis, rocking out on my afternoon runs across never-ending ag fields with my high-tech, pink iPod mini fastened to my side.

Now I just feel cool that I have one that still works.  Like, you have an iPod touch or one of those new iPod classics that fits 40,000 songs?  Well, I have a pink iPod mini!  And it works!  Who is the cool one now?  This little discovery is going to make for much better travels in the coming weeks– space for audiobooks galore!  (And, all those glorious rap songs.)

Happy Friday, indeed.

Welcome back old friend. I guess I named you Spunky in 2004.

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Jul 07 2012
3 Comments
Life, Writing

Memory & Writing Set to Music

Heart-felt, folk-inspired songs are the soundtrack to my writing, my life.  Each familiar voice brings me back to a separate set of memories, gently guiding my writing beneath the layers of my subconscious.  Today, as often is the case, Pandora is set to “Lullaby” by the Dixie Chicks, conjuring a list of songs and memories that span my lifetime.

Norah Jones puts me on the big red Unitrans bus in college, evoking independence, that first real freedom.  Then, Sarah McLachlan transforms me into a fourteen year-old girl, sitting in the back of my mom’s old station wagon, driving up to the hills to see her boyfriend, her notes like open wounds, angry Nirvana blasting simultaneously through my headphones. Next, Joshua Radin draws in the San Francisco fog as I drive to my first apartment in the City, happy but alone. Finally, Lullaby by Dixie Chicks comes around, makes me want to cry, every time, dancing slowly together in our little Berkeley apartment, a ring on my finger, How long do you want to be loved?  Is forever enough?  

Sometimes, I forget to listen to music while I write.  I’m certain those days my writing lacks the same poignancy.

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