Life in progress


The Healing Power of Music

Music has a place in the hearts of many—one might even say the majority of people; it’s what we listen to in our cars when we’re driving as fast as we can (legally of course 😉 ); it’s what we employ to escape the doldrums of life; it’s our background noise; it’s the panacea that allows our souls to heal.

But what of the artists who create it? We treat them these days as though the owe us. We steal from them, and the internet allows us to without reserve. Think about that…

That’s not what this post is about, however. I want to talk about the quality of the recordings we hear in this age of digital everything. Have you ever heard anything on vinyl? Do you remember why it is preferable, even though you want to preserve the cover, to take off the plastic wrap from the outer sleeve of a 33 and a third record?

I am so happy I kept all my records. I have here, in my house, the very first rock album I ever received–Christmas of 1977–“Frampton Comes Alive.” I have many of the CD versions of the old albums I still possess–“Equinox” by Styx, “A Night at the Opera” by Queen” (which I most gratefully received for Christmas last year as a limited edition vinyl copy)


and I’m able to do a direct A to B comparison. Believe me when I say that if listening to a CD is great, experiencing the same on vinyl, is like being in the same room as the band as they record it.  Where digital is a flat wall of sound, vinyl surrounds you like you’re standing inside the music. It penetrates. It removes all other thoughts. It allows you to be fully in the moment, where no cares can invade. It is healing.

If you ever have the opportunity to listen to vinyl, do. If you ever have the chance to buy a turntable, do. Vinyl is coming back. Embrace it.



What’s My Line? – Stream of Consciousness Saturday (Line)

I was sitting in front of the bank manager’s desk yesterday, with the bright March sun shining right in my eyes when she asked me, “Are you still a ‘homemaker’?”

“Yes,” I replied. But that’s not really what I was thinking. What I wanted to say was, “no, I’m a writer.”

But then, I figured she’d ask me who I was working for, and I didn’t, of course, want to tell her I didn’t work for anyone but myself.

It’s questions like this that make a thousand thoughts run through your head at once. All the ‘what ifs’ and ‘why don’t I just come out and say it?’ and ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’ It’s funny how fast the brain can work in these moments. The decisions that we make in a split second, some of which can change our lives forever. And what’s scary is, how many times in, say, a year, these split-second decisions come across our desk, our plates or our lives. I can’t remember how many times I’ve said to myself, if only I’d said this, or that. Whether it was something that would have altered my life to a degree that I might not have recognized myself in ten years, or whether it was merely something witty, those moments pass us by like so many lost opportunities and baseballs we know we should have been able to catch if only we weren’t afraid of the pain of impact.

One day I’ll be able to change that decision. I’m going to say, “I’m a writer,” and I’m going to smile broadly AND I’m going to say I work for myself. One day.

Part of ‘Stream of Consciousness Saturday’ (SoCS) – this week’s prompt here:

Please join in! It’s open to everyone!