When I was younger I worked in corporate. Most companies didn’t have the propensity for lush, trendy work spaces like they do nowadays. I always felt liked I’d been sucked into some sort of impenetrable socially-acceptable goo with my mortgage and ‘hot desking’ (which was all the rage). However, at the time I was hooked on my ashamedly extravagant lifestyle of organic produce, proper coffee and the desire to one day have all my lingerie in matching sets. So I stayed.
Urban foxes – we see them all the time, usually scooting across the road in front of the car at 5 a.m. or perched up high on their wheelie-bin thrones.
Yes, their fur is the traditional red colour, but it resembles the faded edges of velvet curtains that have hung in the window for fifty years and their eyes look like lemon sherberts dotted with ants.
Today I am not dressed for the occasion. Certainly I am not fit to be blessed with the presence of nature. But maybe today the fox with his equally ragged attire found it easier to come a little closer.
I got out of the car and shuffled over to the fence where the garage is and waited while the cold grass crept up into my shoes. We spoke silently for a few seconds, our eyes locked together. And then, as though it was a magic spell all of it’s own, my smile sent him scampering back down out of sight – although I did feel that if I had waited some more we could have played this game together all day.
Physically, music could be understood as nothing more than a series of vibrations and waves of rhythm, but it has the ability to penetrate the molecular spaces of our very make up, touching us in places where nothing else can.
It can be transcending and life changing as by this very method it fuses with us and becomes part of us, sometimes apparent and sometimes subtle and to it, we are mere puppets on a string.
Rhythm begins life in the form of the Mother’s heartbeat to the listening infant within, the deep vibrations of melodic voices heard through amniotic fluid and when born, the patterns of all the Worldly sounds around them. The written and spoken word becomes intertwined with notes and tempo and tone.
The oldest living concept born from mysticism itself, nothing is more powerful or influential than music followed closely by literature. Both have the capacity to embody all emotions (and sometimes many emotions in one piece) depending on how well composed it is.
Literature was born out of a necessity to translate the rhythms of our heart and minds.
Those who have an ‘ear’ for music, and not necessarily people who can play an instrument well, but people who really hear these omnipotent hidden messages within the notes that are played, have the awareness of the complexity of dozens of drum beats played together in harmony and the aptitude to pick these out one by one and know the purpose of each for being there.
And to go further, the act of dance is the gateway into complete transcendence through music. The bounce of the guitarist feeling the riff, the nodding head of the drummer and the sway of the vocalist are all forms of dance, allowing the music to swirl through them like a hurricane. The music is not around us, it is inside us, and makes our bodies act in devotion.
So how, I argue, should music and literature not be worshipped as idolism? It is more than simply that, it is far more. It is more than love and more than hate, it is the very essence of our being and it is the only thing we truly know.