It’s that time of the year when we all start to feel a little weary.

There’s music to rehearse and gifts to wrap, appetizers to make and cookies to bake, traditions to carry on and a few last-minute gifts to purchase (does Amazon deliver on Christmas Eve?!).

It’s easy to forget the reason for the season and become overwhelmed by our calendars, commitments, and the chaos of the season.

But that’s not what Advent and Christmas are about. It’s a time of waiting, of patient expectation, of stillness and quiet and peace.

One of my favorite things to do in December is to look back at all the books I read during the year.

I set out with a book list, like I do every year, and then changed my mind as I came across books in the library and in church basement sales, books that came recommended by friends.

I used to set a goal to read 10 books in a year, then I worked my way up to 12. Last year, I read 16 books and this year, I read 31! Now, for those of you who read 50+ books a year, this may not be very impressive, but I hope it’s encouraging for those of you who want to read more that you can teach yourself how to be a better reader, little by little.

Today, I want to share the six best books I read in 2019, along with a brief description of what I liked about each one:

Mix-and-match wrapping paper.
Bubble wrap for packaging.
Winter Berries stamps.
Cantata rehearsals.
Appetizer recipes on Pinterest.
(Endless) to-do lists.
Amazon packages.
Christmas cards to stamp and address.
Cookie swaps.
Shipping deadlines.
Various versions of Jingle Bells in lessons every week.

These are the things our December days are made of.

Real-life December means we're behind on our Advent calendar. Because part of me feels like if I don't turn the cards over, the days won't go by so quickly.

It means a stack of holiday sheet music (sorted by level) to bring into lessons and holiday-themed activities for studio class.

Fall was rich and full, sunny and bright. We spent time teaching and learning, experimenting and creating, dreaming and planning. We read new books, shared deep conversations, and found new inspiration in ordinary places.

This is life lately:

This is a letter to all the parents and guardians and babysitters and older siblings and neighbors and friends who support young musicians: those who encourage the pursuit of music, tote children and books and accessories back and forth to lessons each week, and help with practicing at home.

Dear parents + guardians:

Thank you for supporting your child’s musical pursuits. You play a crucial role in your child’s success in learning to play an instrument. Even if you don't play the piano yourself, your support and guidance at home during the week is extremely important to their music-learning process. 

Over the years, I’ve written several posts geared toward smaller, beginning handbell choirs:

• A Dozen Budget-Friendly Collections for the Small Handbell Choir

• 50 Pieces for the Small Handbell Choir

• How to Write Your Own Handbell Processional

• 25 Reproducible Collections for the Small Handbell Choir

“But what about those of us with more established groups?” you might be saying. “What about intermediate-level repertoire?”

That’s where today’s post comes in.

A few summers ago, I attended the National Conference on Keyboard Pedagogy (NCKP) for the first time (read my recaps here, here, and here). 

In addition to a wealth of new teaching ideas, I learned about new methods and curriculum materials, some of which I’ve been using in my teaching ever since. 

Perhaps the most influential and valuable resource I discovered at NCKP was the Royal Conservatory of Music (RCM—Canadian division) and Music Development Program (MDP - US division).

Founded with a commitment to developing strong musicianship skills from the very beginning, the program includes level-by-level guides to repertoire, technique, and musicianship skills (plus supplemental materials for music history and theory) for a variety of different instruments.

"What's the best thing that happened to you today?" I asked over coffee last week. He thinks for a moment before answering.

The reply is usually as simple as the question itself:

A moment of creative inspiration
A feeling of accomplishment
A kind word

It's a simple question and a meaningful daily practice. One that tilts our perspective toward the positive. It's an invitation to recognize those small moments that may be too easily forgotten, dismissed as too small or insignificant, lost in the shadow of something bigger and more dramatic.

(Because we all have those moments in our days.)

But what's really important? What do you want to remember?

A few months ago, I received an email from a friend:

“Hi Ashley! I am looking for hymn accompaniments for four hands at the piano. Not arrangements, but the actual hymn. We will be without our organ for some months and I want to beef up the piano sound by adding hands. Do you know of any books with this? Or websites? I guess we could just play in octaves, but maybe there is something interesting out there."

Can anyone relate?

Whether the organ is undergoing repairs, that F# is in need of a good tuning, or you show up one morning and the power is out…

Sometimes, you need to use the piano to accompany the hymns.

But if you’re in a large space, the piano may not be enough on its own to really support and lead the congregation in song. What’s a church musician to do?

In the book, How We Learn: The Surprising Truth About When, Where, and How It Happens, Benedict Carey stated, “Games are the best learning tool.”

It’s true, isn’t it? Games often have a way of teaching us something new without us realizing we are learning. We’re concentrating on the rules, listening, observing, interacting, and in the end, playing.

Learning is simply embedded in the process.