There are no pix in this post. No clever visual to connect to the missive contained herein. Just words.
But can’t words convey a greater, deeper, personal meaning? Can’t the theater of the mind transport faster and more effectively than pictures, video or movies? How often is the film as good as the book? I can only think of one example. Hunt for the Red October. The movie was as good as the book. The music helped. The rich, haunting minor movements of soul-touching Soviet orchestrations…
Music helps me. I’m sure it helps you. What do you listen to and when? How many times did you play the same song over and over after a break up? What song did you choose? Or did the song choose you? How often do you repeat the same piece when looking for clarity in a tough time? What do you play and how loudly, on a roadtrip?
Music touches emotion. This week, my friends and I seem to have been in a similar emotional space. Music did help. It kept one of us, among us a little longer. It helped a couple get through a grueling work week. For me, music helped ground me to the earth.
A nod to the The Listening Program and the wisdom to see it through no matter the hurdles. Doubt the hurdles are even near over, but the value is in the listening. I continue to sleep better unless outside disturbances occur. I am calmer and more grounded and I am able to deal with the memories continuing to bubble up to the surface.
It has not been pretty, that memory part, but allowing them to reappear, then grieve is helping me to heal. What would have flattened me not so long ago, still flattens but I am able to process through the grieving steps more quickly. And I come out on the other side with a tremendous gratitude for those who are dear in my life, music and the lessons learned.