**DISCLAIMER--this post is meant to be read with music. I refuse to accept responsibility for this post seeming really lame unless you at least try it out with the music. I'm looking at you, Ryan.**
So since this blog is about music and how it affects us, I'm including a piece of music that I really enjoy to augment the writing. Hopefully it's not too big of a pain to indulge me and push play before reading on. It will be worth it, I promise. I can't say for sure how the song will make you feel but I can say that you'll at least think it's pretty.
A lot of people really enjoy sharing music with others, myself included. I've come to realize lately that, with few exceptions, we're not trying to share the song so much as we're trying to share a feeling. But feeling the same thing as another person is tricky business, even with a tool like music to help guide you. Brain chemistry, personal experiences, and cultural attitudes all play integral roles in what we feel when we experience any form of art. Setting aside differences in brain chemistry that limit us all in varying ways as far as accessing the emotions that the musician is trying to tap into, we all value emotions uniquely.
Take love, for instance. In our culture, romantic love is revered and so when we hear a song that elicits that feeling, most of us appreciate that as a positive thing. But if someone raised in a culture that equivocates romantic love with being a flighty, horny-pants creeper, they might not appreciate it in the same way at all--even if the song manages to tap into their emotions the exact same way. I think that's fascinating. And it leads me to my point: I was listening to a song today and I felt something...great. I'm hoping that if I write the experience down that you'll be able to feel what I felt to some degree so that I'm not just sharing this song but the emotion that it helped me gain access to.
For me, the holy grail of emotion is a cocktail of intense love, longing, and--because of the ever-present knowledge of impermanence--mourning. But the knowledge that everything I love, myself included, will one day be lost makes these moments so exquisitely, painfully beautiful that the feeling becomes intoxicating--even addictive. A combination of music, exercise, and being outside in nature are the only surefire combination to tapping into that feeling.
I was out on a run today and the serendipitous timing of the song, the place on the road, and the seeds of emotion already within me allowed me once access to the feeling. Only this time it was taken even a step beyond what I'm normally able to experience. It was as if, just for a moment, time stopped being linear and I could see the entire thing--past, present, and future laid out in front of me like everything was all happening at once. I saw myself being taken care of as a helpless babe by my parents, just as I saw myself caring for my babies and then my parents when they're in the twilight of their lives. I saw myself at the point where I'll need round-the-clock care. And I hoped that when my turn comes to need that help that I will have been able to direct enough love outward into others (and be lucky enough) that caring for me is not a burden to them but a natural expression love. Because we all fall. The fact that our bodies will someday turn against us is, to me, such a powerful motivator to both enjoy everything that our bodies can currently do for ourselves as well as others. I don't know how much longer my body will be up to the task of facilitating my desires but it can now and that is so incredibly wonderful. The fact that I'm not able to feel constant gratitude for it is the only tragedy.
But. Music is a fantastic tool in feeling and glimpsing, if just for a moment, the important things. Can you feel it? And what is your favorite emotion to tap into?
