I used to pride myself on being able to do several activities at one time. I play the violin. While playing chamber music with friends, I could simultaneously make lists of things to do the next day, replay a conversation from earlier in the week, plan a fundraiser or wonder if I should clip my nails. The mundane slipped into the moments that could have been filled with music and unencumbered relationships with my friends.

Fortunately, somewhere along the path, I read research that countered the prevailing business and academic culture I was steeped in. In brief, current studies informed me that it was not even healthy or productive to multi-task. Though it was a gradual transition, now when I sit with my string quartet, I am with the music, the sounds, the reverberations, the ever-changing possibilities… in each moment. Nothing is static or even permanent. We can play the same Beethoven quartet and know it will never sound the same. Thousands before us have played the same notes; many will play them into the future. Each time this great music is played, we enliven Beethoven’s genius and hopefully some of our own.

Forgiveness, and even love, is a big part of making music. Believe me, as a child and learning to play the violin requires both in large measure. If my parents had not been able to over look the squawking sounds and poor intonation, I would not be playing today. Instead, their constant encouragement kept me going. When I couldn’t stand the harsh and imperfect sounds, my mother would play along with me to enhance the overall result.

I do not practice any religion and yet I am deeply moved by the sounds of monks singing Gregorian Chants, a children’s choir in a cathedral, bells and chants in a temple, a Bach Motet in the Cloisters, spirituals in the church, saxophones in the subway, and a Mendelssohn Quartet in my own living room.