Research just published by Dr Dawn Rose at Herts University points to new ways that learning an instrument benefits children: it improves their 'fluid intelligence' and emotional wellbeing - and much more.
But it's not just kids who benefit. Last September I picked up my flute for the first time in 30 years (I dropped it because I didn't have time to practice with three kids) and joined a class playing traditional folk tunes.
We're encouraged to play by ear, which is a steep learning curve if you're used to relying on written music. But it's so worth it. When I've stopped banging my head against the wall in sheer frustration I can almost feel my brain synapses connecting - or whatever it is synapses do.
Afterwards my brain feels as if it's had a complete physical work out: exhausted but flexing new muscles. And it doesn't stop there. Between classes I feel the benefits in so many other areas of my life: there's a new energy, a new clarity. Beats Sudoku any day.
Monday, 20 February 2017
Tuesday, 14 February 2017
Cars for empty nesters
The empty nest has many silver linings: less laundry, no one to nag.....
But this one has taken a while to dawn on me. Our sensible grubby roomy hatchback is redundant. The big boot is surplus to requirements. Now I can drive the car I've always dreamed of.
It's a strange one for me, because I'm a rubbish driver. I have panic attacks just thinking about the M40.
But I had a Damascene moment when I climbed into my friend's sporty BMW last week. Her only regular passengers since her kids left home are her two teeny terriers.
I know it sounds sad, but bowling down the country lanes went straight to my head. It felt a bit Thelma and Louise, the sort of thing women with no responsibilities do.
Suddenly I thought, if I had a car like this....or the vintage Triumph Herald I dreamt of as a student... or any car I chose because I loved it, not because it was big enough and safe enough - maybe I could conquer my fears of the M40. Because come to think of it, it was driving with a baby in the car that gave me the panic attacks in the first place.
But this one has taken a while to dawn on me. Our sensible grubby roomy hatchback is redundant. The big boot is surplus to requirements. Now I can drive the car I've always dreamed of.
It's a strange one for me, because I'm a rubbish driver. I have panic attacks just thinking about the M40.
But I had a Damascene moment when I climbed into my friend's sporty BMW last week. Her only regular passengers since her kids left home are her two teeny terriers.
I know it sounds sad, but bowling down the country lanes went straight to my head. It felt a bit Thelma and Louise, the sort of thing women with no responsibilities do.
Suddenly I thought, if I had a car like this....or the vintage Triumph Herald I dreamt of as a student... or any car I chose because I loved it, not because it was big enough and safe enough - maybe I could conquer my fears of the M40. Because come to think of it, it was driving with a baby in the car that gave me the panic attacks in the first place.
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