Music in My Head and in My Heart


Music in My Head and in My Heart

I woke up this morning with music running through my head. I knew without a shadow of a doubt everything was going to be just fine. Come what may, I’d survive. At the end of the day, I’d still be me.

Over the years, I’ve worked very hard to find my center. I’d find balance in my life only for something to sweep through and I’d topple like a house of cards. With a lot of inner work, it’s become easier to pick myself up, be kind to myself, and find the hidden gem in the experience.

Secretly though, I’ve always worried that someday the true test would come along and all my hard work would be for nought. Yesterday, full out drama and chaos came to my doorstep. I stood and watch dumbfounded and completely speechless. Afterwards, I felt a lot of different emotions which I diligently named and accepted.

Still, deep inside I felt something that I couldn’t readily identify. It wasn’t painful. Yet, I felt that something had changed in me. I couldn’t figure it out so I decided to give the feeling some space.

Bring On the Change!

This morning, I awoke with music in my head. I realized that I was still me. The change (profound but not dramatic) was me no longer questioning whether I would allow myself to be pulled off balance. I may not have control over all situations but I do have choice over my actions and ultimately if I choose to participate in the drama of others.

The other thing I realized is about music. I’ve come to see that when music fills my head, it allows me to feel my emotions, work through them, and let them go. In this way, music is both a symbol of my emotions and a bridge to what’s happening in my heart.

More so than that, music extinguishes the mental chatter. Since its feeling based, there’s no need for interpretation. No middle man necessary. No blame. Just an acceptance of what is in this moment.

It’s a fascinating concept. I think back to the past and I see so very much. Connections. Realizations.

Noticing the Beauty

Over the years, when I’ve hid from myself, life had no music. No music playing in my head, in my house, not even the sound of birds. I isolated. I got depressed. I allowed myself to be used and found myself shrinking because I thought it would please others.

Then, as I started to heal, to love myself, and accept myself something changed. Music has found its way back into my life. I never realized that until this morning.

Something as simple and beautiful as the chatter of birds. My grandson singing the latest song he’s learned in music class. A yearning once more to sing and to learn to play piano.

Now, the music in my head and in my heart has returned. I have a barometer. I have a bridge. I have myself.