The Harp Project

I am starting a new endeavor. I am committing to playing the harp every Sunday evening for us, and our community. I will share imagery and poetry for your reflection. I encourage you to bring a thought or poem to share too. I am encouraging us all to take a break from that which troubles us. Come sit in music and community. For one hour, let go of the ever-present news of violence, terror and ugliness that surrounds us. Take that peace with you – as you wind down the week, and invite calm for the Monday ahead. 

I’m curious. What change can we bring to our own lives, the lives of those around us, to our community, to our world?

Let’s find out.

Discovering our Power

I attended Oberlin College in the early nineties. Oberlin, if you are familiar, is known for its very liberal and social justice minded ethos. I, a young woman hailing from a conservative family in the midwest of our country, had never been proximal to such radical and progressive (dangerous!) ideologies. Well, not true entirely. I was certainly raised with high doses of moral instruction – but this lefty view of things was a different flavor than I was accustomed to.

After the initial shock of it all, I began to see the underlying principles that all of this railing and resisting was about. It started to feel like coming home for me, and I began to find my footing.

I never dyed my hair blue, I didn’t drastically change my persona or outward appearance much at all. From the outside, I was still a harp-playing, style-conforming, strait-laced-looking gal from Nebraska. But something more important started to resonate within me, a familiar feeling that I didn’t know before how to express. It was an awakening to the fact that the choices we make, the things we say, how we behave – these things on a personal scale all matter. They matter very, very much.

Be the Way You Want the World to Be

While some colleges and universities display admissions posters with their sports mascots, and taglines of Go! (Insert mascot), Oberlin’s poster has a large satellite photo of the earth. The text reads, “Think One Person can Change the World? So do We.”

I’m going to be honest. My sweet young self that was formed and molded in the reserved and conservative heartland scoffed at that poster, at first. I would see it on campus and roll my eyes a little. Nice sentiment, but isn’t that a bit unattainable? I mean, that seems like a lot of pressure on just little old me, and honestly, I think everything’s going to be ok. The world doesn’t possibly need ME to change it, and how could I, anyway? Everything will be fine. 

Here to say – everything does NOT seem to be ok in 2025, like I thought and hoped it would be. Perhaps it never really was as good as I wanted it to be, as I shielded my eyes from atrocities that were comfortably far enough away from me I could afford to do it. Things feel different now.

But that was the beginning of my ideological awakening. That was when I started to think of my thoughts and actions as truly consequential. That was when I started to see that negativity can spread like wildfire, and kindness and optimism can change someone’s life for the better – and for those with whom they share it. That was when I felt the capability, (responsibility even) of my ability to change the world. Even if it just meant thinking one good thing, or encouraging someone to do the same. It all matters, and these things *actually* make a difference. I’ve seen it happen, over and over.

Real Life, 2025. What can I do??

Fast forward. It’s 2025, drawing to its fraught and difficult close. Oberlin is firmly in the rear view mirror (although my recent 30th year reunion was pretty freaking amazing). I’m in my 50s. I made a career out of my conservatory musical training, and played harp professionally for over 20 years. For lots of reasons, another blog post probably, I decided that playing music professionally was not what I wanted to continue doing. For the greater part of 10 years, I’ve been helping people buy and sell homes with Sotheby’s International Realty. I have played very little harp in that time, despite the apparent disappointment it brings to many people who ask me if I still play. Hmph. Another blog post.

In the middle of a disrupted and anguished sleep around Thanksgiving, it came to me. I feel compelled to turn my constant underlying worry and anxiety into something helpful – something that could actually DO something. In the midst of raising my kids in an increasing ugly and uncertain world, what can I DO that will move the needle? How can I, Julia, one person in Baltimore, Maryland take some of the collective pain away?

Finding Beauty

I have heard that people find music and art pleasing. I hear that harp music is calming. I hear people telling me I should still be playing. Well – it turns out I DO know how to play the harp. I actually even still love it. Maybe I should play music for people, and see what happens? Perhaps by offering a respite and recharge for my community, we will be better prepared to escape the doom spiral. Perhaps we will remember that sharing beautiful experiences and enjoying smiling faces of others are at the heart of our humanity. Perhaps we can leave our devices and AI at the door – just for a bit. Perhaps – just by enjoying something beautiful together, without distraction, for one hour a week – we can cultivate change, and feel better.

Are you In?

This is an invitation to participate in my experiment. Are you curious, like I am, about what committing to experiencing sound and beauty together might look like? In a sea of uncertainty, violence and fear, can we create a refuge right here in North Baltimore, in a warm and gorgeous open space at my friend’s inegrative health spa that she’s allowing me to use??? Can we take that feeling and inject it into our family relationships, our work days, and our greater community to create and cultivate change? Can we create a ripple effect that brings something positive into a dark and challenging world?

Do you think one harp can the change the world? I do. Music needs listeners. Poetry needs readers. Come as you are – bring a friend. And a cookie.

The Baltimore Harp Project, 2026.