Category: A Moment in My Life

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, July 27, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

I’m not sure how it happened, but it did—my life took off without me, leaving me trailing behind—overwhelmed. The next thing I knew, I had way too much to handle and no idea what to do with it all. It turned out that back in early February, writing a “Dear Future Me” letter to read on my birthday in July was a grand idea. The premise for a “Dear Future Me” letter is a letter to oneself years in the future. I wrote one of those for 2026, but I want this project to be productive, so I composed one for six months later to assess my objectives. I remember a few items in this letter. It was an eye-opening revelation of the other things I forgot in a mere six months. As we gallop along through the months, who has time to think about where we were heading—especially when unexpected people and events pop into your life?

At the beginning of 2021, I listed projects I wanted to achieve this year. I did good in breaking them down into work-related, domestic, and personal plans with a timeline attached to each, more or less. I was excited and eager to hit the road hard and fast. During one of our phone chats, my friend Noreen and I shared what we planned on achieving in 2021, and the more we talked, the more excited we got. It felt like such a sure thing that we planned a celebratory trip together for the spring of 2022.

I knew that Shelter in Place was nearing the end, and once the world around me reopened, I would lose my freedom and have to incorporate the outside world into my day. Sure, I looked forward to hanging out with people and doing things with others, but something has to give when that happens. We exchange our time for something. During a video chat with my friend, Andrew, I suggested a creative project that I thought was right up his alley when he mentioned all the distractions that he faces. His words flipped on a lightbulb in my mind because that was the exact thing troubling me lately. I’ve been feeling like the days at the office where as soon as people showed up for work, people pulled me this way and that, and I spent my day putting out fires and never getting to the mounting pile of papers on my desk. How is that possible when I’m my own boss now? I’m still in hibernation, meaning I have all day to spend however I see fit. How is it that I have no time to even stay current in my planner? This is alarming, people! What’s to happen when we return to “normal” life?

My letter reminded me of the priorities I had at the beginning of the year. The good news—I accomplished a couple of my goals, but the majority—the important ones require way more fleshing out. Here it is July, more than half the year is over, and I barely touched what was most important to me when the year began. Why? What happened? It was such a sure thing six months ago. How did I fail? Life happened. I added more people and projects to my world that weren’t there when I wrote my letter—all distractions. Distractions don’t necessarily mean negative. Distractions can be positive. Bottom line, a distraction is a distraction, which can make or break best-made plans. I’m not going to mention what those distractions were because, like my sister would say, “it’s neither here nor there.” The important thing is how to get back on course with the amount of time I have left. 

As long as I am constantly reassessing my goals, I stand a fighting chance of success. Once I identified my distractions, I began a plan to eliminate those that create no value in my life. For the distractions that add positivity and joy, I reduced the amount of stimulation from them to maintain a healthy balance.

Falling off course this far into the year is alarming. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t lose sleep and didn’t have anxiety over this, but it is what it is. Freaking out doesn’t solve the problem. I prayed to God for direction and to fill my soul with His peace, and it’s incredible how quickly He answers our prayers. With a calm demeanor and a few good night’s sleep, everything looks hopeful again.  

I’m a firm believer that timing is everything. And, I am a big believer in taking time off in the summer. When I was working in the office, I always took two weeks off in July, but I never remember to take vacay when I became my own boss. Last year, I took my birthday off, but it was such an overwhelmingly joyful but busy day that I decided to take two days off for my birthday moving forward. This year, I planned for the two days, but after July began, I suddenly remembered about vacay, so instead of taking two days off, I took two weeks off to get my act together and to enjoy my birthday. This year, I spent a few days celebrating with dear friends who helped make this a wonderful birthday considering all things. It turned out, the celebrations with different people were a pleasant and welcomed distraction that was just what God planned to help shake me out of my rut. However, without knowing it, all those previous months of distractions exhausted me beyond belief. I ended up needing a third week of vacay to overcome the burnout I was experiencing.

Once I corrected the distractions and executed my new plans and good habits into my daily routine, I am finally back on the main road. Hopefully, with the months remaining, I can achieve my goals this time. After all, what better time to reassess than after a birthday? This is the best time to get back on track.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, July 1, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

Lately, it seems everything I’m doing I’m doing for the first time. That reminds me of the old saying, “There’s always a first time for everything,” and it’s true. It’s true. That’s why someone probably said it, and someone coined it, and the rest of us repeat it.

For the first time, I unplugged from FB over the weekend. I’ve been so socially active on FB that it became overwhelming, and I needed to dial it down. I didn’t know what was wrong at the time I decided to unplug. The only thing I knew was that it was no longer fun because it felt more like a job. When FB begins to feel like you’re reporting into the office for a job, you know you’re burnt out. The weekend of silence was just what the cyber doctor ordered. It gave me clarity that my system had been overtaxed by cyber-stimulation. Removing myself from the cyber-world identified what wasn’t working and what was. It also revealed everything about FB that I cherish. Unplugging was a huge success. I returned refreshed as if I had come from a weekend spa retreat with a new game plan in hand.  

I’ve always loved drums, but not until recently did my enthusiasm come out of the closet. I have my buddies from the FB Doo Wop (DW) group to thank for that. The members from DW have such exquisite and diverse taste in music. They tickle my musical fancy every time I visit. And, who knew that I’d meet a real live drummer there? When I first shared my love for drums with Edmond Toy (ET), I felt this connection between us—I got this vibe from him that I couldn’t explain. One day, it clicked. It was our mutual passion for drums that connected us. And, then, I discovered he’s a drummer—not only that—I learned he’s the drummer from the renowned Chinatown Soul Band, Jest Jammin’. Holy moly, you can imagine how embarrassed I felt learning that a nobody like moi, who knows nothing about drums, was carrying on a conversation with a real live famed drummer. ET, not only being a talented drummer, but he’s also humble as cherry pie, and I mean that in a good way—I love cherry pie. He never once let on who he was or made me feel smidgen-size. Instead, he took me under his wings and had broadened my horizons with his drum expertise and musical knowledge. I adore the man. He’s just the sweetest and kindest guy.

I have never enjoyed as many “drum” songs as I have lately, thanks to a couple of my other DW buddies, Michael Mar (MM) and Dennis Yee (Big Bro), who, after noticing my drum fancy, enlightened my world with delicious songs heavy on the drums. There is only one path with them—Do not pass go, go directly to drum heaven. MM spoils me rotten. He feeds my “more drums, please” request. What a guy! Big Bro introduced me to Hal Blaine, the father of all drummers, who has been like an old friend to me, doing nothing but filling my world with joy in the music I grew up with.

Another DW buddy Warren recently took me under his wings and taught me what I call “dance and song pairing.” I love his comments, which center around his passion for dancing. He’s a talented dancer, and I’m grateful to learn from him. I think it was meant to be that I’d connect with him now because I forgot that one of my birthday goals was to learn line dancing this year. Birthday quickly approaches, and I forgot about this goal until Warren brought up line dancing and a lightbulb turned on. Thanks to him, I’ll get to check that one off my list.

My niece, Kathy, and I hold a standing phone chat every other Wednesday evening. This week, we did a first—we baked a new cookie recipe to critique on our call.  She and I are fascinated about living a healthier lifestyle, so when “Giada’s Chocolate Chip-Quinoa Cookies” popped into her newsfeed, she passed me the recipe, and the game was afoot. The “quinoa” caught her attention. 

It was so fun baking these cookies knowing that Kathy was doing the same thing in San Diego. We compared notes, which turned out very similar. It was hilarious that we both thought to do the same thing—bake only six cookies first and freeze the rest. What are the chances we’d do that? That’s my baby niece! We are family!

I look forward to experimenting with new recipes with her. As for this recipe, we both agreed that these cookies were a bit too sweet. As I scooped the 1 cup of coconut sugar, I thought that was a lot of sugar, and I was right. I plan on baking these cookies again with some modifications. For starters, I’m cutting the coconut sugar to ½ cup and see if that makes it more palatable for my liking. Baking time was 13-15 minutes. I went 13, but I’ll go with 14 next time because the cookies came out incredibly soft. Maybe a little longer would firm them a tad more? The problem with coconut sugar is that the product looks darker, appearing burnt, but they’re not. That’s the tricky part. Otherwise, I would follow the rest of her recipe exactly. Since quinoa is a complete protein, these would make an excellent protein bar replacement, so I’m hoping to make these cookies work for me. I included the recipe link if anybody wants to try it. If you do, please comment back and let me know how they worked for you.

It’s been a hectic week. I’m grateful to get on the page today. A few other firsts kept me occupied, but none were as noteworthy as the above, so I’ll spare you the details. And that’s pretty much the highlights I have for you regarding the one about firsts.

https://www.today.com/recipes/giada-s-chocolate-chip-quinoa-cookies-recipe-t223097

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, June 24, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

Word of advice—be careful what you wish for. That was from someone who didn’t take this advice—yours truly. The other day I watched the new Hallmark movie, “Her Pen Pal,” which was a delightful movie that left me wishing I had such a story to reminisce.

Wait. I did have a pen pal, briefly. His name was Thomas. Thomas from Malaysia. Whatever happened to him? How did we become pen pals? Gosh. Darn. I don’t remember, but this was back when I wrote actual letters with stationery and pen and supported the USPS system. I had a few pen pals–both guys and gals, but Thomas stood out during my teens. When I think of him, I think of riding horseback slow-mo on the twilight beach, just like in the movies. I’m not sure why since we never met in person, but something we talked about in our letters triggered this memory. Had we continued corresponding, who knows, “Her Pen Pal” might have been my story. Wouldn’t that have been interesting?

Not so interesting was another memory triggered by this wish—an old suppressed memory of my first major crush. He was EY to me, and to protect his identity—we’ll refer to him as EY. EY floated like an angel as he passed in front of me on Pacific Avenue in San Francisco just as I stepped out of my house that first morning of junior high school. We locked eyes, and that was it—I gave him my heart. How long had he lived up my street? Why hadn’t we crossed paths until that morning? I would’ve noticed this tall, lean guy with exquisite features and a gorgeous head of black wavy hair. He even stood apart from all the other guys wearing the same navy-blue Derby jacket. He made desert boots seem like the coolest shoes. 

I trailed behind him down to Stockton St, where I timidly stood hidden yet close enough to gawk at him without him seeing me while we waited for the 30 Stockton bus to Marina Junior High, where I started seventh grade. I later learned that EY was starting ninth grade. Ugh! I was a sophomore. He was a senior! He’ll be gone to high school at the end of that school year! On the first day of junior high, I fell in love and broke my heart all on the same day, and that’s a tragedy.

Nothing changed since day one. I spent the whole school year watching EY from a safe, hidden distance. Although we locked eyes that first day, I don’t think he saw me. I was “in crush” alone. At the end of the school year, I went as far as to spend what little money I had to buy a yearbook to cut out his senior picture and carry it in my diary, which I did for the next four years. 

I couldn’t wait to go to Galileo High, where EY was, but when it was my turn for high school, they started busing, and I ended up at Mission High instead. I should’ve picked up on the signs telling me it was never meant to be. I remained faithful, though, and my eyes blindly saw only him still. I don’t know what I was thinking. We had no connection or familiar anything where we might run into each other. We lived on the same block and managed never to bump into each other, ever. 

My resolve to remain faithful to EY began withering with time and distance. Then, suddenly one lovely spring day when I was in eleventh grade, my girlfriends and I were on the N Judah streetcar heading home from school when EY hopped onto my streetcar. My heart thumped so hard I couldn’t breathe or think, but I knew this was my one chance to do something, and I took it. I ditched my girlfriends. I approached EY and asked if we could talk. He said yes. He also agreed to get off the streetcar so that we could talk in private. We stood at the bus stop on 10th and Market, where I poured my heart out to him, and he seemed to welcome everything I said, but he didn’t indicate any reciprocation. He neither let on that he ever noticed me or not. He had a good poker face.

EY was just as handsome up close as I imagined he would be. He still towered over me now that I’m wearing heels instead of flats when I was twelve. From the exterior, he remained everything I dreamed he would be.  However, he was way chattier than I imagined. As he spoke, I realized that EY was merely a gorgeous man shell that I filled with who I wanted him to be. Not on purpose, but rather out of necessity since I knew nothing about him. So, I gave him a personality, character traits, and the whole gamut, making him my perfect dream man. The only thing terrible about doing that was meeting the real EY and discovering he’s nothing like my dream man. That’s still fine, except I was too naïve to dream up some things like values, which it turned out we desire very different values. He was more interested in marrying for money than for love. I don’t roll with money being the priority.    

I always imagine a fairy tale ending after meeting EY, but reality never resembles a fairy tale. My heart was heavy-laden that afternoon as I processed everything when my friend Anna called me. The first thing she said was, “Are you out of your mind?” From there, she repeated every word verbatim that I told EY. I felt like she slapped me in the face repeatedly. It turned out EY is a mama’s boy, and he tells mama everything. Mama is best friends with Anna’s mother. That was not the way I wanted to discover a connection between EY and me. 

I may be an open book. I share a lot, but I am a private person. I try to exercise discretion on what and how I communicate. I was embarrassed that my girlfriend repeated what should have been a private conversation back to me. All of the players in that scene were older than me, but none were mature. Granted, Anna was trying to be a good friend, and I appreciate that. In a warped way, and not at that moment—but in hindsight—I’m glad she told me. After that, I was finally ready to let EY go. That night, I shredded his photo and moved on.

Although I gave EY my heart when I was twelve, he never accepted it. Eventually, I met my dream man in the man who became my husband, and he wholeheartedly took my heart with both hands and kept it safe forever after. My first crush and my pen pal may not have worked out, but as it turned out, my wish came true, and I did have such a story to reminisce, just like in the movie “Her Pen Pal.”

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, June 22, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

A funny thing happened on my way to today. I ascertained an enemy as a friend. Well, a perceived enemy, that is, who surfaced at all the wrong times, turning my world upside down and plucking me from my comfort zone. It was most apparent back at the Schwab office, where it felt like it was someone’s job specifically to see how much damage they could do by turning everything topsy-turvy. I know that’s not true, but at the time, while it was happening, it felt like it was.

It never made sense to me when everything seemed to run smoothly why we needed to change. I was a dedicated employee who thrived at doing not just a good job but the best job I could, and intermissions of change disrupted my productivity. Selfish—I know, but ask anybody resistant to change, and you’ll hear the same story. We’re all in the same boat. Sometimes, I felt guilty of being a hypocrite since the company’s motto was diversity and change, and I was resistant to change.

“Resistance is futile,” as the Star Trek Borg would say. They were right. I knew that the powers above me at Schwab knew more than I did. If the company deemed it necessary for change, who was I to argue? I kept quiet and acclimated with a little grumbling—just a little.

Not all change is bad. Sometimes, it’s surprisingly a blessing in disguise. Like the recent text alerting me that I depleted my high-speed data on my phone plan. Seriously? This is a first. Since the inception of my plan, I’ve constantly rolled over data and barely used any of it. I supposed regularly listening to music cost me my data, and that’s worth it. In reviewing my plan options, I couldn’t believe my eyes that there was another plan for $40 with 15 GB of data and unlimited everything. My current plan is $45 with 6 GB of data and unlimited everything. I rubbed my eyes and scrutinized the details, trying to see the catch—there was none. Guess what? I’m switching to the $40 plan. This change was not a bad one.

Remember I said I was resistant to change? Well, as time goes by, I noticed that I’m a hypocrite for my hypocrisy. I say that because, at work, I didn’t care for change, but if I stood back and looked at my bigger picture, I would see that I live a life of constant change, daily—by choice.

Mark used to open a cupboard door and say, “Every time I get used to something being somewhere, you move it.” That became a resounding joke between us because it was true. I constantly repositioned things to make things better. My motto is to be the best person I can be and make my home the best it can be—achieving these goals meant constantly changing for the better.

I couldn’t grasp the necessity for change until I personalized it, then it became logical. Since I was calling all the shots, I knew what needed to change and why. Change is imperative for wellness, along with other reasons. I started writing my column, ‘A Moment in My Life,’ intending to write every weekday. However, as a one-person business, I realized that I couldn’t write my column daily and work on other projects, so I had to make a change. Occasionally, I need to skip a column, or two, to address other priorities. Sometimes, the other priority meant giving my muse a break—a necessary evil.

God intended change as a key in growing us as people and spiritually. He constantly challenges us out of our comfort zone—my favorite place. Hiding in my favorite place stagnates me, and that saddens God. I want to please Him; therefore, I need to change my attitude towards accepting the change that is out of my control. It’s all a matter of perspective. Once I have the right mindset, nothing will seem that bad—my working towards change instead of against makes for a better outcome since change is inevitable.

A Moment in My Life – Monday, June 14, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

All too often, we hear someone say these words, “we’re family,” I do it myself. These words carry with them a different meaning for different people. The bottom line—belonging. It doesn’t matter if you’re outgoing or a loner. Even for a loner, at some point, they, too, need to belong somewhere whether they admit to it or not. 

“We’re family” are magical words that don’t require blood or even a DNA test. I know some who are big on “family,” and for them, family means someone who shares the same blood as them—no exceptions. That’s their prerogative. Growing up, I leaned towards that perspective based upon my naivety until I grew up and met an array of people from different walks of my life. Each person was a stranger to me at some point, and because of them, I learned that it’s not blood that makes people family. Instead, it’s the person themselves and whatever common bond they each bring to the scene that creates family over time.

These relationships happen in the least expected places. You probably never thought about this before, but have you noticed how much more you know about your coworkers than your extended family? You see your coworkers at least five days a week. You make conversations with each other throughout the day. You may have lunch together. And for some, do extracurricular activities, such as bowling or baseball games, outside of work together. And, when was the last time you even spoke to your relatives?

There are people you love in a work environment, and there are people you loathe, just like in any family. With that said, I noticed that if I were in an unfamiliar group, and the only face I recognized was a coworker I am not too fond of, I might seek that person out rather than be with a stranger—just like with family. You tend to draw to your family in unfamiliar surroundings. Some go as far as become good friends who move in together and essentially become each other’s family.

I have been blessed with many adoptive families brought together by a common thread like my work family. Then, my church family derived my small group family, my family of Christian sisters, etc. Aside from that, I’ve got my book club family and lunch bunch family, and now my Facebook, which in itself has many sub-groups that I call family. Why so many families? Because they consist of people I like and who came into my world and added value. Thus, they became an essential fixture in my life which defines family for me. 

There is another family that is close to my heart. The one that I got when I married Mark, the love of my life. I didn’t gain just a husband, but also a set of parents, two sisters, and a baby brother who grew up and added their spouses and kids to the mixture. Of all my tribes, this one is dear to my heart because that’s what remains of Mark. It also stood the test of time, which I can’t say I’m surprised, but truth be told, only time could tell how things would play out. As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry, unlike my aunt, who was widowed with two toddlers and an infant and disowned by her in-laws in her late twenties. This incident happened to my aunt when I was a kid. It left a poignant impact on me. After Mark passed, this memory surfaced, and during a vulnerable moment, I feared that I might have seen the last of his family.

Time proved that this fear was delusive. Instead of falling away from each other, my extended family has become closer than ever. We’ve spoken more often and spent more quality time together in the past two and a half years since Mark’s passing than we did when he was alive. He would’ve loved spending so much time with his siblings. I believe that he is with me always, and his spirit has brought us together, for which I’m grateful.

We may not have blood bonding us, but I love my adoptive families just as much as my birthed family because we’re all people related or not. More so, we’re all a part of God’s family. If we love and care for each other and foster some good within our relationship, that’s good enough for me. We’re family.

A Moment in My Life – Fun Friday, June 11, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

For today’s ‘Fun Friday,’ I planned to hang out with my friend, Elaine, for most of the afternoon—starting with a leisure brunch at Bay Watch in Burlingame, which both of us craved something from there. She missed their breakfasts. I craved their French fries. They make the best fries, and that’s coming from someone who doesn’t care for French fries. After our leisurely lunch, we planned to take a long walk through the aisles of the nearby shops. Some call that window-shopping, but we’re not shopping; we’re walking, taking the scenic route through the stores. Someone has to take inventory of how they’ve changed during this past year, so we volunteered.  

A lot has changed in how businesses do things these days. For example, at Bay Watch, they now hand you a menu, and after you’ve studied it and decided what you wanted, then you return to the counter and place your order. Then, after paying, they seat you. From this point, it’s business as usual. The waiter brings you your beverages and food, checking in on you throughout your meal just like old times whereas they used to seat you first, then they came and took your order at the table.

It was nice that Bay Watch took advantage of the no-indoor-dining months and made improvements to their restaurant. Up until this point, I hadn’t felt comfortable dining indoors. However, this place lured me inside with the rustic ambiance and fresh scent wafting through the spacious dining room, putting me at ease. 

They have a new menu, too, and if I remember correctly, they did away with a portion of their menu. However, a substantial menu remains, and if you didn’t know better, you wouldn’t miss anything. Although we missed the specials listed on their blackboard on the wall, that will return in time, I’m sure. Our selections were just as delicious as before. I ordered a vegetarian omelet filled with broccoli, spinach, mushrooms, tomato, and cheese. I substituted the hash browns for French fries and opted for whole wheat toast. Elaine enjoyed her scramble with avocado and tomatoes. It was a satisfying meal for us both.

Elaine and I yakked for a few hours, and we were the last patrons to vacate the premises, just like old times. 

I was disappointed that we had to change our plans foiling the second part of our date. My bad, I wasn’t thinking. I bought Elaine a bouquet since she needed a little pampering, but my timing was off. It was too warm to leave the flowers in the car while we trekked through the shops. Instead, she wanted to take the flowers home and put them in water. I’m glad she liked the bouquet so much. In a way, she did me a favor—my day was gone—what was I thinking? I always lose time when I’m with friends. It was a most enjoyable afternoon, just the same. It may not be much, but for today, it was my kind of fun.

A Moment in My Life – Throwback Thursday, June 10, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

Recently, out of nowhere, I ended up having two separate similar conversations triggering a memory that I’ll share for nostalgia’s sake. When I first arrived in San Francisco in elementary school, I was so shy. Audience: “how shy were you?” Okay, all joking aside. I was topnotch shy, and the funny thing about that is that you understand everything that is going on around you, but the people you encounter treat you like you don’t speak their language. Do you know how in sitcoms, the character raises his voice at a foreign person who doesn’t speak English as if they were hard of hearing? The same principle applies here. People tend to treat you stereotypically. 

In my case, the school staff and the teachers thought that I didn’t speak English. It’s hilarious they presumed that when my transcripts should indicate I transferred from Canada. Why wouldn’t a Canadian speak English? Oh, right. Come to think of it, parts of Canada spoke French, but that wasn’t my case. They felt I spoke Chinese and asked my soon-to-be desk mate, Rita, to ask me a question in Chinese. I heard them talking to each other, and I understood every word, but did I speak up? No. Why would I? I was shy, remember? Up until this point, I hadn’t uttered a sound. I waited for Rita to ask me her question. 

When she spoke to me, she got a “Huh?” and grotesque look out of me. Our teacher asked Rita to speak Chinese to me. Was that Chinese? What did she say? Afterward, she told our teacher that she didn’t think I was Chinese. What? That was Chinese? Many moons later when I got to know my classmates, who were predominately Chinese, I learned that most of them spoke Cantonese, whereas my family spoke Taishanese. Aside from being shy, I went through culture shock here from a predominately Italian community in Canada, which didn’t help matters whatsoever. I always think of Steve Martin in The Jerk, where he said, “You mean I’m going to stay this color?”

If only that introduction broke me of my shyness, but it didn’t. Everybody continued to believe that I didn’t speak English, and I let them, ending me up in their ESL (English as Second Language) program through my junior high years. It was meant to be. I loved everything in ESL. I learned so much more about the English language and grammar that apparently, the English classes all the other students took didn’t teach. I fell in love with the written word from these classes, and my dream of being a writer was born.

Life in ESL was more straightforward and slower, which turned out to be what a shy little girl needed precisely—just a little hand-holding, and from there, I learned from my “real” little English-speaking classmates how to speak Cantonese. After you got the gist of it, it wasn’t that different from Taishanese. It’s rather pretty a dialect and a higher pitch more fitting my preferred speaking tone.

Sometimes I wish I attended regular classes as my older sister did, but I believe everything happens for a reason. She’s 100% outgoing, and I was pretty much the complete opposite. I may not have thrived in regular classes. For that reason, I’ll always be grateful how things turned out, but none of that might have happened had they known I spoke English just fine—if they only knew.  

A Moment in My Life – Whimsical Wednesday, June 9, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

I’ve seen so much change as we go through the motions of living a life—growing up, getting an education, working our careers, discovering ourselves, and interacting with people—basically coming into our own. Civilization keeps on advancing along with us with new must-haves. It’s a constant game of out-with-the-old and in-with-the-new. Many things we once adored we now cherish as a memory, but one constant remains through the test of time, and that’s music. Music has taken different forms, with new artists making a name for themselves, but music has not disappointed over the years.

According to the Smithsonian, “Making music is a universal human trait that goes back to at least 35,000 years ago.” No wonder we’re so drawn to music—it’s a human trait. Not for everybody, but music touches all of us at one time or another—for some, more so. If there’s a celebration, there is music. Are you working on a physical project or exercising? Music makes the task more enjoyable. Need some white noise? Turn on the music. Even during the sad times, music consoles.

I’m not sure how it began, but during my teen summers, our house was the “happening” place where the neighbor’s kids snuck over after our parents went to work, and we spent every day together. It always started the same way, with us fighting over who went first to choose the songs we sang with a hairbrush in hand. It’s incredible how fast the day flew by when we entertained ourselves along with records—before karaoke became the bomb. Someone once told me kindly, when I sang, not to give up my day job. Hence, you won’t ever catch me singing in a karaoke bar. My public singing resides with the old hairbrush in the past. Do you want to know a secret? I still sing, but only in my safe place—my car with the windows rolled up where nobody can hear me.

 It’s funny how things worked out. Forever, I was a closet music lover. It might have something to do with my getting into trouble for listening to my Walkman under the covers in the middle of the night as a teen—pre-headphone days. During the pandemic, I’ve come out of the closet, and proudly so. Thanks to technology, I could listen to music on my phone all day and even Bluetooth my playlist onto my car’s sound system. Why stop there? If you run into me somewhere and call my name, please don’t think I’m ignoring you if I don’t respond. It’s most likely that I didn’t hear you since I typically have music piping through my ears.

If there is music nearby, you can count on smiles. One day, I stood in the long 6 feet apart checkout line at Trader Joe’s, immersed in my music. The cashier kept turning towards me as I approached his checkstand, and he got my attention. We made eye contact, and we were swaying to the rhythm of the music in my ears. For a moment, he scared me. Can everybody around me hear my music, too? It turned out he was only mirroring my swaying. Oh oops. I was embarrassed, but his luminous eyes put me at ease. When I reached him, he said that it was refreshing seeing someone have a good time in line different from the same old, same old—that made sense. I can imagine how bland the same old could be. For a moment, music connected us and covered our faces with smiles.

I can’t imagine a life without music. I don’t think I’ve ever listened to music as much as I have during the last couple of years. It’s been a lifesaver for those moments where there was so much noise in my head that I couldn’t think. When I needed a good cry, a sad song helped that along. So many beautiful pieces bring back memories as if they were yesterday to relive and warm my heart, especially when it was our songs. Beautiful melodic tunes quickly fill the void of loneliness. An uplifting melody gets me dancing my happy dance, which instantaneously replaces any gloomy mood. Some soulful songs inspired me to write my stories, which never would have happened otherwise.

I connected with two different groups online, where we share a mutual passion for music. For the first time, I’m not enjoying songs alone. My groupies and I share song videos, and having discussions over the songs has introduced me to some great songs and some beautiful people—all because of music.  

It’s no understatement when I claim the importance of music in my world. It may seem frivolous and a waste of time to some people, but I can assure you that it couldn’t be further from the truth. Music is a survival mechanism that can soothe a hurt, mend a broken heart, resonate a love, officiate a celebration, commiserate a farewell, and connect people. 

Music has seen me through my formative years. It has been like an old trusted friend who has been there for me through the good times and the bad, which means music is my life.