How to Share Music

Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the wind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything.” – Plato

I’ve seen it on Hallmark cards, Instagram, Facebook, and journal covers. It’s the image of someone doing something gutsy like jumping over a chasm with the words, “Leap and the net will appear.

I think I’ve found variations of this idea in every spiritual tradition and book of writing advice that I’ve studied. There is something powerful in setting your sights on something and THEN figuring how to make it happen.

Hearing someone else’s story about how they did this is pure inspirational gold. In this episode of the How to Share podcast, author and educator Nancy Shear tells her story of leaping. She was 15 years old when she first heard the Philadelphia Orchestra. She knew she had hear more but she didn’t have the price of the ticket. Through patience and pluck she figured out how to go in by the stage door – and that led to the amazing stories she tells in her book, I Knew a Man Who Knew Brahms.

Nancy and I talk about how sneaking in through the back door of the Philadelphia Orchestra opened so many fascinating doors in her life such landing the job as the assistant librarian to the Philadelphia Orchestra at age 17. We get to ride along with Nancy to meet all the incredible people she got to know including the wonderfully charismatic conductor Leopold Stokowski who starred in Disney’s Fantasia to the incredible cellist Mstislav Rostropovich.

Nancy lets us in on so many fantastic aspects of the workings of an orchestra and I reveal some of the ways her book changed how I listen to a performance. Her nerve, grit, and storytelling will leave you amazed and inspired. I know you’ll love this conversation with the delightful Nancy Shear.

Here are some favorite quotes:

  • “If you have no choice, then you make a life.”
  • “Money is not necessary; it led to my going backstage and meeting all these people.”
  • “Beauty still matters in this battered world.”
  • “What is to lose? You’re walking into a room of human beings.”
  • “Writing the book was where the courage really came in.”

And here’s Nancy telling the story of sneaking in to the Philadelphia Orchestra:

Here are some ways you can watch this fascinating and delightful episode:

Please listen, watch, provide feedback and subscribe.

How to Share Compassionate Stories that Inspire and Connect How To Share

In this episode of How to Share, host Wynne Leon interviews social psychologist and writer Anne Beall about her book, The Compassionate Writer. They discuss the importance of compassion in writing, exploring the four pillars: compassion for ourselves, for others, for the reader, and throughout the writing process.Anne shares her journey from academia to founding a literary journal, and how her unique perspective shapes her writing. The conversation also delves into the psychological aspects of storytelling, practical exercises for writers, and the reframing of fairy tales to uncover deeper meanings.TakeawaysCompassion is essential for effective storytelling.Understanding our own narratives requires empathy.Writers should be gentle with themselves during the process.Compassion for the reader enhances engagement.Psychological biases affect how we perceive our writing.Different learning styles require varied teaching methods.Visualizations can aid in the writing process.Fairy tales often reflect societal values and biases.Seeing stories from multiple perspectives enriches writing.The tone of writing can create a more relatable experience.Links for this episode:⁠How to Share home⁠The Compassionate Writer on ⁠Barnes & Noble⁠, and ⁠Amazon⁠ ⁠Anne Beall's website⁠⁠Anne Beall on Substack⁠⁠Chicago Story Press Literary Journal⁠From the host:Wynne's book about my beloved father: ⁠Finding My Father’s Faith⁠
  1. How to Share Compassionate Stories that Inspire and Connect
  2. How to Share Music with Nancy Shear
  3. How to Share Snapshots of the American Dream
  4. How To Share: From International Lawyer to Thriller Writer
  5. How to Share Our Luck with Gil Gillenwater

Links for this episode:

How To Share Music transcript

I Knew a Man Who Knew Brahms by Nancy Shear on Barnes & Noble, Amazon and Simon & Schuster

Nancy Shear’s website: https://nancyshear.com/

From the host:

My book about my beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith

(featured photo from Pexels)

(quote from Jennie Fitzkee – Edelweiss)

Gratuitous Noise Appreciation

The quieter you become, the more you can hear.” – Buddha

The other day I was driving to pick up four-year-old Mr. D from preschool with Cooper the puppy riding shotgun. Coop looked at me and then started making noise like he was a cat spitting up a furball. “Khak, khak,” and then came a terrifying pause after which he let out a huge belch, “Gluuuuuuck” followed by a little cough.

Whew! Of course I told Mr. D about it as soon as he got into the car and he made me imitate the sounds for the next five minutes. It made me laugh and think about Click and Clack, the Magliozzi brothers. Remember their show, Car Talk? And they laughed with such glee as they had people describe what noises their cars were making.

And then writing noises down – isn’t that even more fun?

Like my vacuum who frequently chokes on all the puppy hair and traces of mud. It starts wheezing, “runk, runk, runk” til I clean out the filter.

Or the sound of eight-year-old Miss O practicing her hoverboard. “Wheeeee, ooohh.” Then “Clunk” and “ooof” combined as she stops herself against the wall.

As much as I love (and sometimes am overwhelmed by) the sounds coming from my little family, I usually sit in complete silence after my kids have gone to bed. But the other night, there was a rhythmic, and a little creepy, bomp, bomp bomp coming from the dining room. Upon further investigation, it was a balloon from the day bouncing on an air vent.

Early in the morning when I take the dog for a walk, I’m used to the steady patter of January rain. But the other day, it sounded peculiar. It was a “splonk” and “squitz” so I left my hood off to figure it out. It wasn’t actually raining at the moment, so the noise was the houses, trees, bushes, and wires pooling and then shaking off the recent precipitation in fat bursts.

I immediately start smiling when I hear the epic sound tracks for movies like Indiana Jones, Star Wars, and Out of Africa. But I love the sound track of my life.

Khak, khak, gluuuuck

Runk, runk, runk

Wheee, ooohh, clunk & ooof

Bomp, bomp, bomp

Splonk, squitz

What does your life sound like these days?

A Golden Moment

When you realize how perfect everything is, you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky.” – Buddha

Yesterday I had a golden moment with my kids. You know the kind that I mean? Where everything lines up and all our hearts seems to beat in synch for a minute or three.

We’ve been together for three days at a little condo on our favorite beach on Whidbey Island for this long weekend. The weather has been a little rainy so although we’ve walked a little on the beach, mostly we’ve been inside, playing Go Fish, watching movies, doing puzzles.

Then the golden moment came as we were talking about the Beatles last night at dinner. Miss O wanted to know if other musicians know their music so I pulled up this beautiful video of Yo-yo Ma playing and James Taylor singing Here Comes the Sun

Maybe it was just my heart being just a little more open for a moment but somehow the music and the kids listening, everything felt perfect in the world for just a second.

Or it could be because I’d was paying attention because I’d been writing about the curiosity of kids and being at new places for my Heart of the Matter post: Unlocking the Door of Curiosity

Either way – I’m wishing all of you a golden moment for today.

P.S. Watching these two musicians reminded me that I’d written about a story I’d heard about James Taylor: A Show of Character

Moving To Our Shared Rhythm

“Most problems, given enough time and space, will eventually wear themselves out.” – Buddha

Two nights ago my son, 19 months old, woke in the middle of the night crying. It was so unusual that I had to go in to check to see if he was sick or cold, lost his lovey or something else disastrous. And in going in, I found that nothing really was wrong. He’d just woken up so I held him until he got sleepy again and put him back in the crib. So then the next night he awoke around the same time and started crying. Over the course of his learning to sleep, this pattern has happened before. He wakes one night and I check and then for the two nights after, he awakens at the same time. I had no idea he knew how to tell time. But I have learned through trial and error that to stop the pattern, what I need to do on those subsequent nights is let him cry and soothe himself back to sleep.

The discernment of when to leave others alone is tricky. Thinking of the times that it’s been hard – whether it was bugging my mom incessantly for something I wanted to buy when I was a kid or needing resolution from friend or lover in the middle of a kerfuffle, I can feel the tension of those moments. My impulse is to insert myself and push things the way that I want because I can’t stand the internal conflict. Or, I take the opposite approach and walk away entirely, hardening myself against needing at all.

The longer I live the more I am able to sense the Cosmic timing that helps guide us. Like some grand orchestra, I play my instrument but it sounds better when I wait for the cues from the conductor. I can ask for what I need but the response may be in the next movement. Expressing my hurt to a friend is best done when I’m feeling the clarity of my own notes and they might need to tune up before they can reply. Listening to my kids work themselves or their relationship out is like letting them practice their parts, something they’ll never get a chance to do if I step in too quickly.

I don’t like listening to my baby cry for the time it takes him to soothe himself back to sleep. But it makes it easier when I have the music of the Universe ringing in my ears.