Listening for en J O Y ment

"I am willing to forgo the sake of originality for the sake of dancing..."

Michael Grubb

I've learned some new things about listening lately. I would venture to say we've been learning about listening our whole lives--whether or not we choose to hear it. Ironic right? Well, think of it this way-- you know that new found glory when you sit down with an old favorite album and listen anew? Or perhaps the feeling of creating your own sounds and sharing them? Maybe it's a line your grandpa said that you can't forget. Maybe it's the chorus you wrote in response to losing everything. Maybe it's the verse you heard a stranger sing that told you loss is real but not final. You've been listening all along.

Over time we learn to listen for things we like in music and in life. "Selective-hearing" some affectionately call it, but in life it means you have found a way to turn down everything you don't like, or didn't pick out. We're all guilty. But maybe part of listening well and acquiring a good ear, not just for tunes but for tenderness, is learning to listen for something we may not understand. Music has the capacity to invite us in without reservation. Yes, there is a time to be critical, yes there is a time to say what sounds "good" and what sounds "bad," what is "unique" and "over-played," but maybe instead of offering our opinion, we should set everything aside and dance.

There's something so beautiful about the idea of just loving art. No strings attached, not because it is award winning, or the best of it's kind, or flawless, but just digging it because someone somewhere made it, and we like it. No explanation. Sometimes we take ourselves too seriously, myself as THE prime example. Sometimes a song is a song. It does not need to be analyzed. This is not to say we shouldn't find depth in art and music-- it's only to say sometimes it's not about the grade we give a song but the enjoyment of it while listening to it. What joy did it bring? How much did we dance because of it?

Where's Christina when you need her? We need to get "back to basics" and listen to enjoy. I am thankful for this reminder. The first thing I do when I hear a song is decided whether or not this song is "authentic". What do I know about a song being authentic? Who am I to limit art? What do I miss out on because I am so set in stone and unwilling to dance? Thanks to those who have helped me remember why I listen. Thanks for reminding me to find joy.

I found a sonnet I wrote my sophomore year of high school in a drawer today. I wrote it for a class, we were supposed to write about what we loved. I wrote about music, more specifically songs. I smiled reading the less critical, more accepting words of my 16-year-old self. Cheesy as the words are, they reminded me of a girl without Spotify, who listened to the same song a thousand times, and danced-- terribly, and out of sync-- but I danced. It was not about being original, it was about loving the music.

"Shall I compare thee to the easy way of falling?

Each note and word aligned to its perfect fit

Your precious melody, my heart is stalling

But such words taught me not to quit

Sometimes you sound just like a story

Other times you're a vision, so far off

Your understanding uncovers glory

But truth isn't always kind, your words they scoff

The Band-Aid, the listener, you can make me better

In you all my thoughts are written

You changed a silent girl into a go getter

In the cold of the world, you are my mitten

You keep me strong

So much beauty in the world,

but I'm nothing without a song."

Sonnet 1, January 27, 2009