The Harp Maker's Apprentice

Week 1

"Number 59"

I have recently embarked on my newest, grandest adventure: a trip to the east coast to learn how to build harps. To help answer the question of how I ever got the whimsical idea into my mind to fly out to Maryland to be a harp maker's apprentice, you first need to meet my father Lorin H. Low.

My Dad is a doctor, a dentist actually, in our little rural town of Cardston in Southern Alberta Canada. But more than his profession, he is a father and a dreamer. He does the things people talk about doing but never actually follow through with. As he was nearing his 50-year mark, he realized that just because he had chosen dentistry as his initial career path, it wasn't a single path leading to his retirement and eventual demise. He had many other interests set back on the shelf of his mind while he went through dental school, started his dental practice, and helped his lovely wife raise 5 remarkably attractive children and he realized that he could pursue his dream of doing a family sabbatical in Mexico. Realizing this initial dream in 1999 (when I was 12) proved to him that he could do the things he wanted to do in life; he didn’t need to stick to some prescribed life path that seems to permeate our mentality and direct our big life choices. His realization came as somewhat of a shock after 50 years of living, and for that reason, Lorin has put forth every effort to instill in his children the belief that anything is possible. Both of my parents give daily of their time and thought and especially enthusiasm, to support our family’s pursuit of collective and individual dreams.

One Family Home Evening night, my Dad asked us:

If you could do anything, anything at all what would you do? Suspend for a moment the things that get in the way your imagination running free. Forget that maybe you just don't have the time or perhaps the money to do what you want to do right now.

If you could have anything --things, skills, experiences, a way of thinking or being-- what would you want?

What do you really want?

The setting for all this was one of us in the big overstuffed chair, one person giving them a foot massage, while Dad would ask them “What do you want?” He wouldn’t say anything else, just a single question, and he wrote down our thoughts as they came and at the end, we had a list of 50 or so “things” we wanted.

I have added to that list since.

Number 59 on my list reads: Learn to build my own harp