Morning.

I woke up bouncy this morning.

I popped out of bed this morning. This morning, I took an invigorating shower with an amazing loofah. This morning, I wrote the word loofah because I like it so much.

This morning I observed by myself,  my first official music class. It felt really good to be there, official, this morning, and have the teacher say, “these guys sitting down here are BYU students—they’re going to be music teachers.”

After my eyes adjusted to the dark I felt happy about leaving the house at 7:05 am. I felt alright that I hadn’t totally finished my homework. I felt alright about taking two peaches but no sandwich (lately, a sudden LOATHING of sandwiches has come over me.) Our house is freshly painted and our bed has pillows on it.

I looked at my husband pulling his belt through the loops. “Dang, boy, you fine!!” And we did a little dance. Sometimes I resent the “my husband is so great I’m going to blah about it all the time” syndrome. But I’ve caught it, peeps. He is so good looking and so supportive (remember, we’re leaving the house at 7:05 am) and such an incredible leader of our home and he makes me a better person and cuddles me and cradles me and lets me fall asleep while he fills out my FAFSA. We’ve been learning about how Langer says humans have troves of knowledge—actual knowledge, not just feeling—that don’t even lend themselves to words. That’s how it is for me with my sweet husband. We have bunches of knowledge about, for, of each other—this wimpy paragraph? It doesn’t make you understand.

We all have what Langer calls an inner life. (I love her. I lover her.) The inner life is the stuff you were thinking as you walked to school today. Was it words? It could have been. Nevertheless, it was knowledge. And what do we have that teaches people to pay attention to their inner lives? School doesn’t do that. What do we give developing citizens (kids) that teaches them to be emotionally intelligent? Music. Experiences. Even this is beyond my verbal capacity to explain.

It’s cool to have someone say what I’ve felt my whole life about music. That it has inexplicable power over people because it addresses that inner life that other stuff doesn’t.

So, back to this morning: husband. belt loops. 7:05. He is amazing and now you know why I cannot describe it.

Okay, summary if you’ve been skimming: I suddenly hate sandwiches, my husband is hot, and I’m going to be a music teacher because of things I can’t describe and I accept that.