Music: Connecting With the Spirit

Tomorrow's church service is about connecting to the spirit through music and art. I've volunteered to speak for a few minutes about my experience. Of course, I've spent the whole week procrastinating writing out my thoughts. So here it is, almost 1:30 in the morning the night before, but I finally finished. Here it is.

Music: Connecting With the Spirit

My earliest experiences in life, before I can even remember, had music. My parents had a very small record collection, maybe half a dozen, and played them over and over while I was in utero. My mother sang and played the autoharp and a little piano. One of my earliest memories was wildly dancing around the living room to whatever was playing on the stereo. I was maybe 3 or 4 years old, still at that pre-self-concious age when it is effortless to live fully in the moment, totally connected to the spirit. When I was upset and nothing else would calm me down, my mom would play one of our records and it always worked. There is something about rhythm (like a heartbeat) and melody (like a breath) that can take us back to the time in the womb. It is profoundly comforting and centering, and surprisingly powerful and universal.

Starting in my childhood, and to this day, if I listen to the noisiness of my brain, there is always a constant musical soundtrack. It can be anything from a simple rhythm to a song from my childhood, to a symphony I heard on the radio yesterday, to a repeating phrase caught in an endless loop. Sometimes, when I'm really paying attention, I notice what thought in my mind triggered that particular music. When the song "Somebody Done Sombody Wrong" enters the playlist, for instance, maybe I've unintentionally upset someone by something I've said or done and this is the spirit's way of calling it to my attention.

Certain pieces of music get tied to certain memories or experiences for me. Hearing a top-40 song from junior high will take me right back to 7th grade. I can practically smell the raspberry lip gloss and feel the heart palpitations as I pass by my first crush opening his locker, both hoping and fearing he'll look up and notice I'm alive. 1812 Overture? A muggy July night, fireflies twinkling, the smell of suphur as the fireworks boom. Silent Night? Echoes of every Christmas in my memory, especially singing by candlelight with my church community on Christmas Eve. These musical memories I have in common with others in my age group, culture, or religious community help me feel easily connected with them.

I've used music to get me through a hard time. Sometimes when I'm too upset to cry, a song or a sonata will open the floodgates. If I need to wallow in misery for a while, the perfect piece of music is just what I need. If I don't have the luxury of falling apart, or I need a break from the misery, another piece of music will provide me a lifeline, a much needed distraction, or a beacon of hope that things will get better. When I'm feeling apathetic or unmotivated, listening or playing some music usually helps me feel engaged and interested again.

Besides all of these things, I also use music as my main spiritual practice, much as someone else would use yoga, prayer or meditiation. When I hear certain pitches, I see certain colors associated with those pitches. I've had this my whole life, since before I knew notes had names. So when I hear music, it's like an impressionistic kaleidescope. If I'm listening or learning with the analytical part of my brain, splashes of color might be superimposed over images of notes on the page. Or my brain will come up with an architectural pattern or shape of the structure of the whole piece, with big sections, subsections, phrases, and individual notes all color-coded. This makes it really easy to memorize things--it's like having the answer book in front of you! I've had a third of a century of experience since I started learning to play the piano, so a lot of things that used to be awkward and labored are now effortless and second nature.

When you're just starting out, you're just worried about getting through what comes next without making a mistake. When you have to conciously think about every little thing, you're so preoccupied with that that there is no room for the big picture. Once you get the notes, then you can think about expression. I have been through this cycle countless times. In fact, I go through a miniature version of it to this day every time I learn a new piece. It's like a spiral of details-expression-communication, getting to an ever higher level every time I go around the circle. Technical refinement and perspective from life experience over the years has gotten me away from getting stuck in the details and closer to focusing on the pure expression and the big picture.

Sometimes I even have moments of transcendence, where nothing exists but the music and I am engrossed by all the pretty colors resolving themselves. Most days I have at least a few seconds of this. This is as close as I can get to feeling oneness with everything. For me, music is a metaphor for my life. It's full of little details. It's so easy to get bogged down in the minutae, constantly trying not to mess up. But this life has something larger. Maybe my music practice can help me see it.