Five minutes of free write on a given one-word prompt. See more linked posts here.
When I took piano lessons as a child, my teacher, one day, presented a small black item to me. The stand popped out and it rested on the top of the piano, looking over my fingers as they tried to make music. The metronome set a beat, and I needed to match it. This device taught me to keep time.
In music, keeping time matters. If the song isn’t played out in correct time, it isn’t played out properly. It may even sound like musical mush.
In my house, I am a metronome, often beating at double-time. I have the rhythm of the day mapped out. I’m ticking off the beats expecting everyone to match, but God in His wisdom, gave me two boys and a husband. One boy is his very own rigid metronome. One boy is largely oblivious to time. My husband has a habit of telling me my beat is ridiculous.
In really good music, the time often changes. It might go from 4/4 timing to 2/4 timing to 6/8 timing. It speeds up and slows. It builds and breaks. It rests and rushes. It moves.
If I am the metronome stuck at a steady, unwavering rhythm, then I am missing the opportunities for a more varied and more beautiful melody. Letting my time be set by my boys will make things harder at times, but it was also always make things better, more beautiful and vivid.