Jam Session

We were treated to a small concert in our living room a while back.  Our unexpected blessing came to us courtesy of an overnight guest.  A visiting caller who needed a place to stay after a dance came home with us.  The next morning, Diane pulled out her fiddle and encouraged our son, Damon, to grab his guitar and join her.  A jam session!

Damon was learning classical guitar, beautiful pieces by Bach and Tarrega, but had not, at that point, cared to strum.  The chords have never been as interesting to him as the individual notes, hammer-ons and pull-offs that flow together so beautifully.  Besides, and most importantly, he is content to play alone.  What he wants to, when he wants to, where he wants to.  I will often hear him from the next room playing a song made up of equal parts “Malagena,” “Scarborough Fair,” and “Classical Gas.”  He can follow the written music or not, stop and start as he pleases, play as long as he likes.

Playing with someone else is a vastly different experience, as Damon learned that morning.  Damon’s first question to Diane as they tuned their instruments was “What will we play?”  Well, that’s a good question.  What songs would they even have in common?  None, as it turned out.  So Diane opened some music and chord cards and began to teach Damon a song.  Even then, they were limited to the chords Damon knew.  But there was enough to work with, and so they began to play.

Along the way, Damon’s chord changes became smoother, more fluid.  He listened to Diane’s cues and picked up speed.  By the time they were playing a tempo, even Mark and I were humming along.  Together, they built the song, and it was good.

It reminds me so much of relationships.  As we enter a new relationship – work, college dormitory, marriage – we arrive with our own ways of doing things.  We organize a certain way.  We have our preferences in the kitchen or on the computer.  One is a morning person and one is not.  To make the new relationship work, the first thing we automatically do is find out what we have in common.  We might start by asking where someone lives, or where they were born, or if they attend church somewhere.  Even children on the playground know to do this.  “You have a puppy?  I have a puppy too!”  Soon, talking about the puppy turns into play.  They begin to build a friendship.

Sure, things may be easier if we play alone without having to coordinate or communicate with anyone.  But when we decide to make music with another person, if we are going to play together, we have to find out what we have in common.  We play a few notes together, decide that it’s fun, and long to play more.  The only way we can do that is to learn more about each other.  You teach me your ways and I’ll teach you mine.  And we’ll make beautiful music together.