Harmony

As a child, I grew up in a home filled with musical instruments. I mean, filled. Most kids grew up with a piano. I can’t count the number of pianos that made their way in and out of the Plaat household in the years I spent there as a child.

Beyond pianos, I can count a huge variety of musical instruments, some of which included: Electric organ, harpsichord, harp(s), flute(s), piccolo, guitar, electric guitar, bass, drums, violin, trombone, saxophone, xylophone, didgeridoo (yes, really), autoharp, accordion, bagpipes and recorders.

I’m there that I’m missing a few instruments in there…

Each of these instruments was used, rather than bought as decoration. Not a day went by in our home where I didn’t hear at least two musical instruments being played by a human being. Read that again.

As an adult, I now understand the value of music much more than I did as a child. Beyond the beauty you hear when you play the music, there’s a mechanism behind music that services your brain a lot like a gearbox does for a car or a bicycle.

Life is a lot like music; there’s a lot more than meets the eye (or the ear, in this case).

For example, music is composed of individual notes, which can be reflected as one dimensional objects on a sheet of paper. Music transcends the dimensions of time, space, possibility, probability and balance in a beautiful way.

There’’s much more to music than the notes that are played. How you play the note matters. The rhythm of the notes matter. The key you play the music in matters. The tuning of the instrument matters.

All of these things stack up to play even the simplest of tunes on an instrument.

“That isn’t a toy, it’s an instrument and we take care of our instruments.”

Even at a young age, Atlas knows the different between a toy and an instrument. His brain has started to understand that some things are treated differently than other things. As his brain grows and connects the dots, these small measures of judgement making are incredibly pivotal.

My parents raised me right.

Every single day, I am thankful that I had two parents that worked together to raise a family. They broke the status quo of two working people in an effort to raise their children better.

That was the best investment they ever made.

Did they ever own a house? No. However, in my 35 years of living, I have yet to meet a single person that owns their home free and clear.

They owned beater cars that my Dad worked on in our garage. They never had a single car payment, and I never got a lecture for making a mess in the car or spilling the food we were allowed to eat when they drove.

We bought clothes at thrift stores and split whoppers at Burger King to save money.

In spite of all of this, our home was filled with harmony. 

Just like no AI or electronic form of music will ever recreate the sound of a Stradivarius violin, nothing can recreate or improve upon a home that is built with a foundation of love.