I Like What I See

On several occasions, while meditating, I have had a vision. I am walking into a "school of the arts" type place, and I hear music from down the hall. I recognize it as my daughter's music. I walk down a corridor, turn a corner and there she is, maybe 16. She sits solo, in a big room, back lit by sunlight, playing a cello.

She is breathtaking.

In the vision, Riley and I head toward home, we are in a white car. We drive up a small road, lined with tennis courts on the left. There is a group of boys, not really playing tennis, kind of hanging out pretending to play tennis, goofing around. We stop and I roll down my window. Seth is among this tribe of 13-14 year old kids and I ask if he wants a ride. He shakes his head, points to his bike. He'll be home by dinner. Okay.

Next, I'm preparing a salad in a lovely kitchen. We are getting ready for a family dinner, typical school night.

I don't know where this place is.

I know nothing of tennis.

I wish I had that kitchen!

I vowed to never push music on Riley again and have never suggested the cello.

I don't have a white car.

I do know this.

Ms. Riley came home last week with a form for the school orchestra.

She wants to join.

She thinks she'd like to try, the cello.