I presume that most people have background music on in their homes, in their cars, and even when enjoying the outdoors.

I’m not musically gifted, even though all of us siblings were required to take piano lessons as part of a “proper” education. My piano teacher, Mrs. Aharonian, actually said to my mom, “you’re wasting your money on this one!” Nevertheless, I at least learned how to read music and even played the flute in our highschool concert band.

The background music of my upbringing was the whir of the sewing machine, the up and down piano scales practiced by my sisters, the squeak and solid thump of the ancient oven door opening and closing, the clickety clack staccato of a manual typewriter churning out letters and lesson plans, and the hum of conversation punctuated by exclamation points of laughter from passersby and random visitors.

As you can tell from my story telling, I have a fondness and a yearning for the character of my growing up years. However, just because I’m nostalgic about the way things used to be does not mean I’m not grateful for the way they are now. Both lives are indelibly part of me. The past is a piece of who we become, whether we overcome it, long for it, are grateful for it, or are glad to see it in the rearview mirror.

Everything that has happened to me, every painful turn, astounding kink, and twisting detour, now seems worth it! Unexpectantly, but understandably, these were not disjointed events. I now feel a peaceful joy, contentment, and accomplishment that appears out of tune with what I guess I “should” be feeling.

However, I’m done with the “shoulds” and am luxuriating in my own “shalls!” I play my own background music of natural quiet and look expectantly for the adventures of tomorrow while recognizing the miniscule delights of today.

Who sings your background music?