When I’m feeling emotionally vulnerable (as I mentioned this week), I usually sit down at the piano and write. It could be a verse; it could be a chorus. It doesn’t really matter to me. I just sit down and get all my crap out with the piano, my voice, and a few scraps of aged computer paper. It gives me so much solace and comfort. Music sort of says everything I’m feeling without me having to express it. I can trust it to read my mind without judgement or analyzation.
This week, I haven’t been able to write anything – not even a note – and it was so frustrating. I’ve been feeling really stuck and frozen in a personal situation and I just wanted music to read my mind – but it couldn’t. I sat in silence, praying and meditating, hoping a key signature or even a few words would come to mind.
So, I screamed. I screamed so loud at the top of my lungs – and it felt damn good. After that scream, I decided to quit wallowing and make something of the beautiful instrument before me. There is this song by Sara Bareilles called “Bright Lights and Cityscapes” that spoke to me the second I heard it. I remember the day…I was driving to my summer course on a cloudy, overcast morning in May and the song literally took my breath away. I’m serious – I don’t think I breathed for the first two minutes of the song!
It’s everything I look for in music: delicate, poised, and straight-forward with a little mystery. It transcends age and generation, and sends chills down my spine every time I hear it. I started learning it by ear last week but, when I got to the chorus, I was stumped. So, I printed off the sheet music today in hopes of learning the chorus and getting a few pages done before getting ready for work.
I learned the entire thing in 20 minutes. When I finished, I just sat there and sobbed. It was the first time I’d felt that physically and emotionally connected to music in such a long time. I know that you understand what I’m talking about. When a song hits you, it blankets you in comfort. It tells you that it’s here and it’s never leaving. You always have music.
It got me thinking about how I’ve sort of put music on the backburner for a bit. It brings me to an intensely emotional space that I have to be “ready” for. I think it’s good because I’m typically so positive and upbeat, but music really brings out that serious, vulnerable side of me. I feel safe. There’s nothing music can say or do to bring me down because it just is. It resides in the same place it was last time – it’s always waiting for me when I need it – and that is one of the most comforting feelings in the world. I feel so free, liberated, and perfectly content.
Okay, loves. That’s it! I just wanted to share a small piece of my heart with you. I’ll catch up tomorrow with lots of excitement from HLS!
Question of the Day: What is “your thing” that makes you feel safe?
P.S. – If you want to hear me sing, click here!