The World is Better with Music
Disruption and loss are supremely unsettling. The last five years have not been particularly kind – an unscrupulous business partner tanked our business, and we lost our beloved beachfront home. Generous relatives let us move in while we re-grouped. Six months turned into four years before we agreed to go in on a beachfront condo – traveling minstrels alternately sharing a hostel.
Lately, we’ve been on the road – too much, we concluded. My wife, the inveterate wanderer, surprised this homebody by admitting what I’ve been feeling for a while now. “I just want to stay home for a while,” she said the other day. I guess that’s what happens, even to the most traveled, when you sprinkle fourteen trips over nine months. Everything is always in flux; you’re either coming or going, never quite getting settled.
Couple the intended part of being unsettled with the unintended and you begin building yourself a conundrum, a constant state of disruption. It’s not good for the soul. It needs to stop. And I’ve noticed something that’s exacerbated this upheaval – a falling out with music.
My mother was very musical – a formally educated singer and keyboardist, music was always part of growing up. Even well into adulthood, a typical day included listening or singing at home. Moving about and traveling has taken that from me. And I’ve realized not having it hurts. Over these last few years I’ve gone months without sitting down and listening to music. I’ve finally noticed it’s not healthy.
I have no excuses. I have an excellent stereo system – it’s old, but the components are solid, quality. Now that we have settled into a place that feels like home, I’ve finally set it up again. Boy, it feels good just to see it all back together, as it was meant to work.
So today, while I sit here locked to the computer, jazz is blaring from the stereo in the next room. It’s wonderful. Take a deep breath, sway to the emotive chords, let it flow out of you with the rhythm. Harken back to carefree summers, reflect on bittersweet romances, or leapfrog to a hot salsa melody with your current flame amid the thick humidity and perspiration. Music makes those memories come alive, as if they are here and now. That’s good stuff.
Music raises the spirit, reignites the emotions, rekindles old memories, stimulates the urge to create new ones. It’s a catalyst, urging me to get out there, do things, have fun, think on things, take action. It’s the best stimulus I know of, and I can’t do without it.
It reaches into my diaphragm, touches that harmonic that beats deep within, wakes my body to positive vibrations and commands my surging brain to engage and reach for a higher place; a satisfying lift – there’s nothing better than that. Makes me feel re-energized.
Getting back to listening and singing is satisfying, it brings me a contentment hard to find anywhere else. Where else can you combine the non-verbal and verbal expression of emotion with such effectiveness and power? It’s universal. Music. What would we do without it?
