There was a time (about a year before I had my stroke) that I was flying to Poland with my mother (at age 16). We both looked out of the window and it looked as if we were flying into a desert. I said this to my mum, but she said “no, it is the snow”. I kept on disagreeing with her saying that it was sand. Anyhow we landed and we spent a couple of days with my uncle who was visiting his partner’s mother. One night we went out to see a musical performance. We were walking through a gentle but freezing snow storm. It was quite windy, and then we reached this rectangular shed like-building made out of bricks. My uncle and his partner loved going to small, hidden, non mainstream events/get-togethers. We didn’t know where they were taking us at this stage..

We opened the big timber and steel door. It opened to the back of the seating that rose to the back of the building. We found our seats and shortly after the musical performance began. With deep male tones and harmonic female notes. It was exquisite, yet at the age of 16 I couldn’t wait to leave and keep walking in the snow storm outside.

18 years later, I look back at this extraordinary night while I listen to Jazz music through my headphones early on a Saturday morning. I am thinking to myself how absolutely extraordinary that night was and how deeply calm it makes me feel simply thinking about it.

To this day music is a big part of my life and it benefits me. It helps me throughout the day with my energy and concentration, It may well be able to help you too

Isn’t it funny how some parts of our life (in the moment) may not feel enjoyable or important, yet looking back at it feels as if it is the answer..