Music is the History of My Life

Do you remember going to bed late at night with the radio putting you to sleep? Floating you into some seriously needed REM and possibly becoming the soundtrack to some bizarre dream. Well, in my case, I never could go to sleep because the music was just too good to miss. Jam after jam seemed to keep coming on and I found myself more alert than when I first laid down. And even now, I don't sleep with my music on. I can't. I have to dance, move, listen, feel, respond, reminisce...

I have always had music as a part of my life, even at a very young age. Our parents start us off in diapers singing some little tune like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and Mary Had a Little Lamb. Even then, it stirred in us some kind of emotion. We felt safe and loved and cherished. We soon learned to sing along with them or alone to comfort ourselves. Hey, was I the only one singing the soul rendition of the ABCs? I purposely found music to lift my spirits when I was sad, lonely or bored. Or danced to some funky beat because I thought I was like some dancer on FAME. How about the music you listened to when you fell in love with some lucky person? Sometimes that one ballad helped me feel like I was in love, even if I was only crushing. Then I had to turn right around and find some new song to cry to when that person broke my heart because he did not reciprocate my undying love for him. All of that music is the history of my life. In fact, it is the present as well.

And now, as I write, I am listening to my new favorite song of the moment and making fresh memories for tomorrow. I know all about the new age clamor that says one should live in the present moment. However, I cannot deny myself the pleasure of hearing the lyrics of my beloved songs of yesterday. I am always surprised to recognize small details of my life when I recall the music. Where I was, what I was wearing (which can also be a scary part of my history!), who I was with, how I was feeling and why I liked that particular melody. So, ask me if I used to make my own mixed tapes and I will yell a boisterous YES! And of course, to keep up with the technology of today, I now burn my own CDs. I hope to never forget the music of my own story and I advise you to take a few moments to dust off that old record, rewind that cassette or wipe off the smudges of that used and abused compact disc. Sit back and relax, or stand up and shout, as you listen to the music of your own life. Our soundtracks may be different, but through them we are all connected to one another in one glorious, melodic symphony of love.