Where has the music gone?
I wrote the following about two weeks ago. It’s interesting…I’ve been writing every few days or so, but I didn’t post much at all over the past few weeks…as if I didn’t exactly want you to KNOW that this all was getting to me. You know…my current realities which happen to include “world pandemic” and “having eight children in the house”. Lord, really? Did I want you to THINK that I was handling it all perfectly?
Well, if you thought that…you would be right, but also incredibly wrong. It really depends on which hour of each day of each passing week that you assumed that, because my success in “dealing with it all” changed often.
And similarly, I didn’t have the capability or the focus to FINISH any writing whatsoever. Even if it seemed to come to a conclusion, I obviously didn’t feel resolute about posting it, so that says something, now doesn’t it?
This is the first time that I’ve done this, but I’m going to now post something that I wrote almost two weeks ago. Ha! Yep. Here it is, in all of its glory. Full disclosure…I was exhausted and aimlessly searching for what would help. I hope by reading it, some of you may know that you are NOT alone. If you feel weary and unfocused and overwhelmed by it all, it’s because that’s entirely natural. It will get better, because life just moves on…especially if you awaken with intention to move your FEET…or sometimes, ASK your neighbor to move them for you.
About 14 days ago:
Feeling a little overwhelmed this morning? Ha! That’s the understatement of the year. Well, I suppose it wasn’t a statement…it was a question.
I’m sure you all have your own personal answers to it. Likely, you cycle in and out of those overwhelming emotions…in and out of feeling resilient…and then completely paralyzed by worry and fear.
I seem to be creating new boundaries for myself. I try to be conscious of just where I am each day, voice that in some way, and attempt to put out whatever may be causing flare up in my personal life and in my emotions for the day. Sometimes that focus is outside of my home, and sometimes it’s within these walls. Throughout the day, I focus on what needs to be done at each moment, and then I try to recognize the threats that are all around me or difficult decisions that lie ahead.
Open Facebook and take in the words of others.
Gather the towels that continually build up on the floor of the kids’ bathroom, even though there are 8 hooks on the wall.
See who Joe Rogan has on for the day.
Make sure the art supplies for Milly’s insatiable desire to create, are plentiful and organized.
Check in to see if the school district has updated their website with options for the fall.
Let’s just call this “putting out the fires” of my soul each minute. And at this moment, I just can’t stretch myself beyond what’s happening in my own home. I can’t let anything else in, because I feel like I’m failing right here and now. I’ve got to center myself now, before I can consider adding more to my plate. Because I know that plate is larger than I would ever choose myself. The current issues seem as if we’re getting handed a giant greasy buffet, and I’m just trying to make the best decisions in a mass of shitty options.
Over the past few days, I’ve hardly opened Facebook. Throughout this shutdown, I’ve gotten to where I just can’t handle it quite the same as I once did, since rejoining the forum nine months ago. Is it that I CAN’T? Or that I just don’t WANT to? Is pulling away from perusing the lives and offerings of others also just my way of creating a new boundary for myself? A way to bring focus to my present surroundings, because if I don’t, I may regress even further? I can’t afford to feel even more sapped of energy, really. I’ll be honest. I’m pretty depleted.
I don’t have time for long phone chats with others. My main adult socialization happens to be with Mike or co-workers and clients that I speak to during work hours. Ha! I said “speak to”, but I don’t really mean that. Besides our morning Coffee Talk phone chat that our company offers at 8:00 in the morning, my regular communication is through our messaging ap, so I don’t even HEAR their voices. My brain gives them a voice, but there is nothing for me to SENSE. My ears are atrophied. They hear children’s voices in the background, but I even tune those out most of the time.
I’m sitting in a lot of discomfort, and it’s now gotten to the point where I must ask for help. And I must figure out what that help looks like.
I can’t keep up with the laundry of ten people in this household. I can’t keep the kitchen free from crumbs. I wasn’t able to help my son find his baseball uniform for his tournament yesterday. I’m not inspired to cook. Project LiveNotes has completely stalled. Camping gear is still piled in the garage. I haven’t called close friends or family in days. I’m eating comfort food for every single meal. My list of failures could go on and on.
And the building frustration is terribly uncomfortable.
We don’t like to be uncomfortable. As individuals. As families. As communities. As a nation. And this ongoing crisis has almost pushed me to my breaking point, really. I don’t know where the hell that point is, but it sure feels like I’m headed there.
Political woes. Social woes. Educational woes. Medical woes. And ALL of those are OUTSIDE my own home at the moment, because we’re doing as well as we possibly can right now. Whether you are pro Trump or against him, that issue is just a drop in the bucket. We could debate schools reopening, racial injustice, media coverage of the pandemic, proper PPE supplies for hospitals and facilities…and many, many more current issues. There’s just too many to know where to even focus, and I actually applaud those individuals that seem to have picked something to focus on.
But words, either spoken, written or even THOUGHT…don’t do much. We’re all separated by so many things, that I’m tired of filling my brain with the words of others, because no one seems to know jack shit. Everyone is flying by the seat of their pants, so I’ve just turned off my ears and eyes to a certain degree. I’ve decided to cut out the noise.
Yes, I know that’s not necessarily a good place to be. I recognize that saying that makes me sound like I’ve given up. And in some respects, maybe that’s a little true. I haven’t been writing as much. I haven’t been laughing as much. And I sure as hell haven’t been singing.
The music has stopped for me, and I know that it is my responsibility to go and find it. No one’s going to do it for me. The rescuers are not on their way. It’s my responsibility to go find others who are singing, take in their joy or even their pain…and let it move me. It’s time to make a conscious effort to shift my thinking. To ask for help. To give myself grace. To see if I’m able to sing again.
Do you remember the first time that you saw a video of an Italian man or woman singing or playing from their balcony? Did it move you? Did it stir intense empathy and also personal awe in watching someone move beyond their pain, access their depths of resilience…and be able to transmit that to others? It’s a rather beautiful thing, isn’t it? Unfortunately, I don’t consider it very natural. Even less “American”. I don’t think that we, as Americans, would have been driven to music, if we hadn’t already seen that example in a PEOPLE who are known for their appreciation of music and their ability to be effusive or unapologetic with their expression of pain and also, love and joy.
I’m so very thankful that we had that example, but we’re all “over that” now, aren’t we? You don’t see many people posting those uplifting videos anymore, and even less who are doing it for the right reasons. Seeing people who are trying, even in the midst of incredible struggle, to remain positive.
When I moved to London, I had a major realization a few months into the transition. My mother sent me Audra McDonald’s latest CD, and I couldn’t find anything to play it on. I realized that even several months after the move, I hadn’t ever unpacked my CD player, and that without a car…I didn’t have anything readily available to play it on. I finished unpacking those boxes, and finally found one that was battery powered, since we didn’t take any of our American appliances that needed different power. I remember being in the kitchen, pushing play on that device, and just feeling the tears run down my face. Time suspended and emotion was my only company in the room.
Music had been absent in my life, for those preceding months. And consequentially, my soul had been silent. For those several months, without the regularity of driving in my SUV every day for hours on end, I had not been actively listening to music. And I definitely hadn’t been singing. Nothing. No music had been entering or exiting my body in any way.
And as a result, my soul was depleted…as if I was starving for this kind of expression and being FED by the expression of others.
So, from that point on, I had to be cognizant of “practicing” music every day…not in an educational way…but in a therapeutic way. And I had to ask myself:
What other areas need tweaking? What’s missing here? And by “here”, I mean my soul.
Because I wasn’t even aware of what was missing until that flood of emotion left my body, right? I was so practiced at covering it all up and “dealing with it”, that I lost sight of what could even be helpful.
After these current months of social distancing and isolation…I’m aware that I’m having the same reaction to music…now. Sometimes unexpectedly. Whatever emotions have been built up, usually come flowing out, when I listen to a certain piece, or watch a specific video, and I’m grateful for that.
Music is one of my tools. To be given and also, to be received. It’s all around me. It just needs to be conscious.
And there are plenty of other tools at my disposal, if I just get a little creative. I may even need to ask for help. I bet Mike has some good ideas. He usually does.
I need to start singing, both literally and also, figuratively. And I need to stop listening to white noise and replace it with live music that I can SENSE.
Maybe a little focus on what I can actually see, smell, hear, taste and touch. That likely needs to be at this homestead today, so I’ll try to narrow that scope in a conscious way.
Goals for the day: Listen to soul-feeding and positive music. Cook and eat a creative and healthy meal. Sit outside on my porch and take in the birds and the breeze. Hug the kids. Get naked with Mike.
Because sometimes, folks…when all else fails?
Just get naked with someone who sings to you, and the “music” will play on.
(And I’ve been doing those things just about every day since.)
