My god I love making music. I love everything about it. I love the feel of the piano keys under my fingers. The comfortable flex of my hands as I play across the notes. That moment when I randomly play some unknown combination of keys and all I hear is magic. It gives me butterflies in my stomach to think of it. I never know where I’m going to go with a song. I have no plan usually of what I want to play or say. So often the whole piece comes together as a whole. Like Chapstick Ways for example. I wrote that song so effortlessly it was like it had already been written and all I did was play it for the first time. This is something that I have always done. Something that is a meditation for me.
I can sit down and begin to play – play what I’ve already written and some days play unknown music for hours. Literally. Hours. And it seems like no time has passed at all. I walk away from such sessions feeling as if I’ve had a massage. I’m relaxed and focused. I feel happy all the way through. On the days I don’t play I feel dark and grey. Like a black and white version of myself.
Why is it that I take such delight in music? What makes it my balm for all hurts and wounds? It’s a rare day when making music is a chore and has no healing properties. Those rare days when I’m down beyond saving, only silence is my sad song. Music can only help me.
I wonder, can my music make other people feel as I do? Am I able to convey the emotions I felt at the time through what I play? So long I kept it secret. So long I kept the most meaningful part of myself hidden. No wonder my favorite kids story is Mole Music. I read it to my children day after day. It was the perfect story for me. “Mole lived all alone and he was happy with his life but one day he realized something was missing” is how it starts. Mole bought a violin and taught himself to play. He practiced for years and years and eventually became one of the most amazing violin players ever. He never realized that the world could hear his beautiful music through the trees above him and as he played every night people would come from far and wide to listen to the melodies playing through the forest. He wondered if his music had the power to change people, to make them love each other, to make them feel something. He never realized that it already had. That story touched me in such a way. I realized that perhaps if I shared what I had, maybe people would love it to. So that’s what I’m doing. It’s a terrifying thing to bare one’s soul, but I have so much music to share that I think it’s beginning to be worth the risk.