The “Play” List Building UP to the Playlist

Music is a huge part of most humans’ life. We use music to relax (almost every patient had said this), we use music to cope with loss/grief to remind us of our loved ones. Sometimes we use it to cope with endings…the writing on the repeat button was faded on my stereo after listening to Mariah Careys’ “Day Dream” album so many times (don’t judge). This album worked for me for a few reasons, seduction, sorrow, and irreverence. Music is much more accessible in 2019 than 1995, I imagine if I had the same access as I do now, (I love Apple radio) I would have been so overwhelmed with choices, my undeveloped mind and hormones would have been a hot fucking mess.

Segway into the present. I have been overwhelmed more days than not with various music types-Love, hate, RAGE, sadness, stoner, classical, reggae, chants, and Latin (which is a huge hit in my car). My mood changes daily…kidding, I’m, a woman, that means it may change from minute to minute; and for the assuming men, second to second. I own it, but I also control that shit with anything possible to make sure I don’t come across as “hysterical” cause god forbid a human have feelings and a uterus. (A different story altogether)

However, it’s the love songs have been my nemesis of late. For me, and maybe you, they hold a secret promise, a living or painful memory, and recently (yesterday) I began to see hope in a love song. (Blew my mind) it started when I was triggered by a song by James Arthur, “Falling Like Stars” on Friday, which ignited anger, I wasn’t prepared to experience because I was participating in a “paint a picture” group and the lyrics, “I swear to God, when I come home I’ll never let you go,” I seriously almost lost my shit.

Then a miracle happened, the wonderful bartender put a lovely (super fucking strong) low ball glass of Crown in front of me. I’m sorry, if that’s not divine intervention…I’m not sure what is. The night continued and I ignored the music at the risk of being triggered again. Choosing to flirt with the art teacher and a librarian instead. (It was harmless, no one was hurt)

However, the damage had already been done and I wasn’t going home. I stopped at the tap house and grabbed some pizza and a few more amber lovelies. The conversation was great, the music was preseason football, and shockingly I still felt affected by the lyrics that the obnoxious table of loud and drunk married people could not drown out. I called in a lifeline from a hero, and got a ride home and was safe. At least from driving. Unfortunately, my mind was alone and focusing on those lyrics.

The next day was only a few hours away and so were my responsibilities. As I tried to fall asleep, I thought about it (ruminated obsessively), and processed what specifically it was about that song, which lead to other songs, that have such a profound effect my (and others) mood changes. I fell asleep thinking about that song…the next day when I was working with a vocal student that trigger song came on. My urge was to turn it, but I believe in fate, especially if I’m working to avoid something. So I masochistically listened.

The words were beautiful. I experienced a brief moment of clarity. My mind was fighting against the pain I’ve experienced in the past weeks, months, and years. (That’s what it’s supposed to do, right) It was afraid that listening to music that ultimately leads to having hope of love, a healthy family, and having a person to “come home to,” “not being scared” to “feel safe” will be my ultimate ruin. Okay. That may be a slight exaggeration.

What promise can a song make? None. Even if someone dedicated a song to me, what is the promise. The only real promise from a song is that it will invoke thought and feelings, and speaking for me, urges and behaviors. When my grandpa was dying in the hospital I heard “Say Something” by Big World. The moment the song came on, I knew he was gone. When I hear “Stars” by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, I think of him and feel a sense of peace.

When I listen to “Somewhere Out There” by Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram, I’m immediately transported to a single night singing with my best friend and then my babies. I feel love from those thoughts. When I hear anything by Guns N Roses or Firehouse I’m nostalgic then angry. Music is the heart of so many emotions based on our memories. Because, Trisha Yearwood said it best, “The Song Remembers When.”

I’m going to continue to struggle with some music depending on the day, but you know what? I already did that! This new journey has only increased my sensitivity and awareness that has always been there. I loosely listened to Ed Sheeran most of the morning and evening yesterday while I did chores and had company. I seen a progression of his life through his music. It was beautiful as it is dedicated to his life with his wife. He defends her, leaves to be with her, and basically has built a life with her through his music (and IRL).

I’m in my progression. I’m guessing many of you are too, based on so much of your feedback, and I know when I really hate a song I send a message to tell one person that I’m in a hating mood. But those days are getting further apart. I can only hope this is a sign of better days…or at least days I turn to music for loving inspiration versus vindication.

There’ll be an actual playlist soon! I painfully listened to hundreds of songs that may be helpful for readers who love music! Stay tuned!!