I was once told that in order to get into the habit of something, you need to force yourself to do it. So I’m forcing myself today. I’ve been in somewhat of a dwelling mood lately, dwelling on the past, dwelling on the somewhat halting reality of the future, so today I’m trying to appreciate more, regardless of how forced it might be.
Today, I’m grateful for music. Yesterday, for the first time, I wrote a song. I’ve never really tried this before, or if I have tried it, my attempts have been all but successful. Those of you out there that are musicians will know exactly what I’m talking about. I find solace in music’s predictable patterns, and I seek comfort in it’s climaxes, dynamics, and soothing resolutions, and being able to actually compose a song brought me great comfort. The attached is not my original song–not ready to share that yet.
I always think back to times in my house when Mom would play the piano. She seemed to bang so ferociously on the keys of what are now some of my favorite classical songs (of which I could not tell you the name), that the whole house would shake. My siblings and I, or maybe it was just me, would dance and jump around along with the fierce rhythms that would rumble out of the antique upright.
I like to think that tradition of music will continue, hopefully. Just this past Thanksgiving, my family and I had somewhat of a musical session–my aunt on the piano, my mom on the guitar, me singing occasionally. An hour seemed to pass by in a mere minute, and in retrospect, I truly was present, thinking of nothing else but making music.
In fact, yesterday and today, while I was composing my song, I found myself realizing just how present I was during that time. I was free of worry, and any sense of serious reflection or dwelling had escaped me. I was engrossed in the music.
But alas, a song is symbolic of all else in this world. The complex harmonies of a song, the crunching chords, the melodic lines–all combine so beautifully and increase in complexity up to a point of climax, and shortly after that climax the song resolves and must end. The difference is, however, we do not, normally, think of or even anticipate the song’s end. We don’t worry that the song is going to be over soon; rather, we revel in its momentary beauty and merely accept its ending when it comes.
We simply appreciate it.