Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the essence of order and lends to all that is good and just and beautiful.
--Plato--
Since I was a little girl, music has been an integral part of my life. I used to wake up in my crib each morning singing. I would 'conduct' to the music on the radio or on the record player. I loved when my dad would sing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot while he rested my head against his chest and I could feel the vibration. I sang along to the 'Wee Sing' tapes over and over again. (Too bad all this practice resulted in absolutely NO vocal talent whatsoever!)
Now, I own more cassette tapes and CDs than I care to admit. By age 3 1/2 I was taking dance lessons. I danced for almost 20 years of my life, expressing music through movement. Then there were piano lessons, musical theatre performances, and lots and lots of playing the saxophone--in concert band, symphonic band, jazz band, marching band, and summer theatre.
I always listened to music but admit that I spent more time playing music or dancing to it than I dedicated to really listening to it. Music, especially in band, was often a social outlet rather than a time of introspection. This does not dismiss the incredible learning that took place in the band room with Mr. K and Mr. V. Without those formative experiences--in dance, band, and theatre, I would not have come to love music in the way I do now.
During the past three years, music has taken on a new meaning in my life. Many days it sustains me. I have learned to spend hours lying in bed simply listening to music--not doing something with music, just being with music. When I can do nothing else other than lie in bed sick, music is something I can often use to soothe my spirit.
After my gallbladder surgery in January 2005, I remember waiting all day for 8 pm to arrive when NPR's Performance Today with Fred Child came on. And I couldn't wait until Wednesdays to listen to the Piano Puzzler. I started to really learn about music from this show. Noise from any other source--a TV, music with lyrics, a book on tape were too much for me to handle.
Having to lie in bed and rely completely on listening to music to sustain me through those horrific days changed the role music played in my life.
I always listened to music--blasting it on my car stereo, singing along out-of-tune, buying the latest music, learning about new artists. But I never really took the time to care if it was something beyond my favorite classical artists or pop artists.
Now, I spend every night before bed listening to music--really listening to music. I find meaning in the words, healing in the melodies, and comfort in the beauty of it when nothing else can comfort me--physically or emotionally. Some nights when I am too tired, weary and sick, I can listen to only the quietest of music--like the soothing sound of the Native American flute.
I have learned that I, literally, need music to sustain me, to nourish me, to hold me up, to keep me hanging on when I think I cannot.
This 'new and different' love of music is what has inspired my new weekly feature called 'Weekend Lyrics'. I have to admit I got much of this idea from my friend, Tess' blog, where she has 'Saturday Art' as a weekly feature.
On Friday nights, at the end of a long week (and this week turned out to be an especially trying one), we light the Sabbath candles and for a moment we remember to be still, quiet, prayerful and see God's light in the flickering candles.
And so, it seems the weekend is a perfect time to reflect on the week past and the week to come through song lyrics.
A moment of pause.
A moment to stop and appreciate the beauty and gift that God gave us in music.
And, I think also, a perfect addition to Dancing Light's Studio Notes. I hope you will think so too.
Shalom,
Emily
Photo: Blanket flower next to our mailbox.
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