It’s not unusual to see me air guitarring (read: air ukuleleing), tapping my foot periodically, or randomly breaking into song.
Music is probably present in my bone marrow.
From as far back as I can remember, I’ve been singing. Earliest damning evidence includes the tracks of QSQMT being belted out while amused and adoring family members cheer me on.
Bathroom singing, intimate jamming sessions, live performances. Been there done that. There is nothing quite like the high of performing in front of a live audience as their energy and enthusiasm washes over you.
But you don’t need to be a singer or musician to have an intense love for music. There are small, deep pleasures in discovering a new band, a great song, playing your favourite track on loop.
It sounds like a cliché, but music can elevate you out of the darkest trenches, and fling you on top of a shining peak of optimism.
Try thinking in terms of music.
How you felt when you discovered your favourite band, saw your first music video, attended your fist concert, played in your first gig.
What tune was playing in your head when you first fell in love, only to stay transfixed in your memory as an eternally bittersweet soundtrack.
Which songs got you through heartbreak and hardships. And which ones transformed joy into ecstasy.
Shhh. Listen to a song that makes you happy. And smile. Or listen to a song that makes you sad. Cry a little and give yourself up to the catharsis. It’s win-win.
Because isn’t that the point of music? To heal?
When in doubt, press play.
Happy World Music Day.
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