For those of you who know me at all, you know that I have an affinity for music. Not because I sing well or know how to play an instrument, although I wish I did. No, I take pleasure in music because of the way that I come to identify with it.
Perhaps I am even misleading in this. I identify and take pleasure in the word-pictures that are sung to a moving melody. The confessions, metaphors, and lyrics that are gently said, nearly whispered, in harmony and to the rhythm of an acoustic guitar or piano. There is something indescribably pure and innocent about music that I find solace in.
There are a handful of specific artists that seem to sing my life song. Songs that sing of enraptured joys, struggles, triumphs, the pains of growth and refinement, and the hope of plans yet to be realized.
Songs seem to be the conversations never had; feelings never expressed and therefore never understood. Instead of digging up the assortment of various past experiences, songs are the allusions but the not admissions of reality. Personal triumphs and tragedies. Loves had and loves lost. Moments of clarity and spiritual freedom followed by intense confusion and imprisonment to darker truths.
So why the seemingly unnecessary breakdown of songs?
Because it is the most intimate and lovely way of coming to the realization that we are not alone. Whatever we have faced in the past, are in the midst of now, or will soon come to terms with, chances are someone else has been there. There is someone, not physically but emotionally connected with us in that moment; in that place. Our thoughts, feelings, fears, and hopes are met by the company of strangers.
Strangers that soon become confidants because, without saying it, they encapsulate what we are unable to communicate. They identify. Through the notes they choose to pin and the tones they choose to sing, they echo the emotions that lack description. They give substance to the intangible.
Not only is it an incredible talent, but it is a priceless gift for those who receive.
So that is why music is something of a treasure to me. It is that elusive, formless, and beautiful thing that brings the knowledge of being understood and heard.