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Last week, I posted about why I stopped singing after I graduated from college. I'm still processing the incredible reaction that it got, so that will probably merit it's own post in a few weeks when I'm done navel gazing and ruminating on my own fragile existence. (If you missed that post, you can find it here.)
After I made that post, I went on a long ass hike. (Read about that here.) Six miles through rapeseed fields and the forest, and I didn't listen to any music. I let myself absorb my surroundings. I tried to process all of the FEELINGS that I had stirred up with that post. I thought that I had healed enough to be callous about that admission, but I was wrong, wrong, wrong. I spent the whole week in a funk, I am genuinely surprised that my wife didn't toss me off the balcony in frustration. I had no motivation, I stomped around the apartment, everything threw me into a tailspin. I was FUN to live with last week.
In the light of all that, I decided to have a silent week. Not like a weird reclusive silent retreat or anything, just a week where I listen to the world around me. As musicians, we are always listening to music, whether it's to study the score, or learn the music, or be influenced and inspired by new and exciting stuff. There's always music in our apartment, whether it's being recorded, played, or as background to some seriously awesome video games.
But this week, I wanted to give my brain some peace. Some space, if you will, to reassess what I'm doing with myself musically, to figure out where the hell I fit in the music community. I'm certainly not a classical singer anymore. I'm certainly not a significant composer, try as I may to write stuff that's decent. I'm certainly not part of a rock band, except in my dreams.
I encourage you to take an hour or two this week to listen to the silence - even if it's not silent. Listen to the birds in the trees, listen to the trees blowing in the wind. Listen to how the rain sounds on the windows. Listen to how your feet sound walking along the grass. Listen to the sound your food makes while you cook it. Listen to your partner's breathing. Listen to the stillness in the early morning, and how the absence of cars makes the street sound empty and apocalyptic. Listen to the sound that the pages in your favorite book make when you turn them. Listen, listen, listen.
(Don't do this on your commute, though, I don't want to be indirectly responsible for road rage or public transit homicide. Let's not get crazy, okay, we ALL need music (or podcasts) to listen to during the commute, lest we lose all sense of sanity.)
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