It’s Saturday and I’m thinking about my son upstairs asleep in his room. He’s just back from an orchestra camp held at Emory University and I’m telling you it must have been quite an experience. His texting has increased ten fold with his new friends.

My son is 12, meaning he’s old enough to have a complex conversation with you, but it’s about Legos. He’ll still hug me, but as we dropped him off he looked at us like we were creepy old people trying to kiss him. I’m not ready for this phase, but as long as he’ll hug me out of sight of his friends I’m ok.

Orchestra camp was less about the music and more about the camp experience. Our minds needs continual challenges or else they settle into predicable patterns, little eddies that look pretty but never change. Pulling us out of our comfort zone is essential if we expect to live our later years with a mind that’s as sharp as can be. It forces our brains to learn new patters, fire up and sprint down the neural street.

Learning an instrument can be challenging, but doing it with a whole group of likeminded people is like juicing the brain. Collaboration, even if through observation alone, can expand the mind. Practicing some talent leads to more permanent knowledge. It helps them grapple with more complex ideas. Already his speech is losing that halting nature as he gains confidence in saying what he wants.

The rain is relentless this year. For many the darkness spreads so much gloom, but my garden has nothing bad to say about it. Tomatoes are crying out “good morning” and the cucumbers answer “it certainly is!” They’re enormous and we can’t eat them all. But my father loves them and any sensory input he loves I try to indulge.

As his mind continues its struggle I’m struck by how clearly he remembers his youth. Those long cemented moments, scratched into the old tree trunks of his mind are still clearly visible and while he struggles to remember how to control my TV his memory of where he hid his pennies as a child are rock solid.

It’s Saturday and I’m up.