I haven’t been able to listen to music for well over a year. I’ve seen myself in a shop and my ears tune into some sad song and i feel myself choking up like a volcano has erupted somewhere deep inside me and I get out of the store fast. Songs not in English are ok – the words don’t reel me in like a floundering fish. While their melodies create wonderful emotional landscapes I can paint my own trees, cliffs and rolling hills – it’s all on my terms.
Shards fly out from the most unexpected place – elevator music, bad cover versions in Japanese restaurants – snipers hiding in the plastic ferns.
There has been another time in my life which was wonderfully full of music and I so admired people that could sing in the shower or just walking down the street, or around a campfire. It would cripple me to whistle a tune out loud – god forbid hum a tune! I couldn’t even sing in front of the dog! And a huge shift took place when i wrote a song and sung it in front of 40 people. Shamanic belief is that we are singing the soul back home. It was more than just the song it was the accumulation of a lot of work but something clicked and I became more fully at home in myself.
Fast forward a few years now and the death of my brother as you can imagine knocked my world off it’s orbit – and almost a year and a half later a friend sends me a link of some music. Something clicked – I was drawn into the song. I related rather than reacted to the words. I am happily surprised and a small amorphous part of my soul has definitely been sung back in place.