The sound of a heart

I always liked music. That is definitely true. The thing about me saying I like it implies though, that I don't love it. I can do well without it. Even "Christian music" or worship music. It's just not as important for me as it seems to be for others. I played the flute for almost ten years, tried to teach myself guitar, sung in various choirs. Music is fine, really, just not everything. Still there are moments and songs in my head that are inseparable. 

I remember being sixteen on a night train to Barcelona. The story sounds way more interesting told this way. We went there do the second part of our class exchange program that we had with a school in Alicante. So we sat there, thirteen teenagers squished in a railway compartment that was build for four people. It was hot, there was no space. We were drinking, listening to music, being the teenagers we were. Next to me sat my crush, a guy who should later, starting with that week, slowly become my best friend. He had smuggled a bottle of Jägermeister into the train. I tried a bit; to my utter surprise I liked it. He laughed at me and I guess my heart kind of stopped that moment. Then a song came on. "Behind blue eyes". We both have blue eyes and I blurted out without thinking that I really liked that song. It spoke about pain you hide, and I think all people who remember their teenage years know how it is to hide at least a little pain. So we kind of started to chat about music, figuring out that we both cared more for lyrics than for tunes. We connected somehow.

Later that night I sat next to another guy after having changed the compartment to the one my friends and I slept in (the "neighbours" were nicer there). Again, I spoke about music, this time about that kind, that is heavily bass, drums and guitar infused. I got introduced to some bands I still listen to and to the kind of music called nu metal. I never liked the screamo, so this fit me.

I hardly ever spoke to the boys in my class to this point. I did not have any male friends to be honest, so just chatting with them was odd for me. That's why probably the topic stuck so much. Sometimes I still smile at that person I was. Today I feel totally comfortable and at ease around guys. Sixteen year old self could not know.

There is another song that was some sort of life changing to me. It was a day after my fourteenth birthday, Good Friday. We went to a camp in the morning, in the evening we had the usual christian camp thing, someone talking about the bible, worship, etc. I can't really remember how it went, it is kind of blurry, but throughout the evening I decided to become a Christian, to follow Jesus. Somehow linked to that is a German song. I don't know what it was; it just made me understand all those things I couldn't before. The thing with that song is, it's not one we sing at church. Sometimes they do sing it at big gatherings though, like the camp I was between Christmas and new years. I don't listen to it throughout the year as it is really dear to me and I don't want it to lose its magic. Why is it so special? My body reacts to it very much. All of a sudden I feel like that fourteen year old girl again, it is like newly enamoured, but instead of some stupid boy, I feel enamoured of God. I have weak knees, I start to cry, I am shaky, and butterflies are in my tummy. I wouldn't want it to happen randomly, but to have that feeling every once in a while is glorious, it grounds me and reminds me that fourteen year old me was able to decided bloody wisely.

In general, I think if there was a particular music playing during important moments of your life, then those songs will stick with you. I have a song stuck in my head almost every day, which is just kind of part of my life. I once even wrote that music is the background of life. It has no main character qualities for me, but it can enhance the bigger picture of a situation. 

The next story is terribly cheesy. I said when I was sixteen I was in Spain with my class. The second day after we went there, the whole group went to go to a theme park close to Alicante. Most of the day we spend as a group together. I have to admit that I am terribly afraid of rides, still I went on all, except two (one looked scarier than I could take, the other was a free fall thing, not fond of them). Sometime in the afternoon the guy I talked about earlier got kind of bored. Most of the group wanted to see a show whilst he wanted to go on more rides. Crushing on someone makes you do stupid things, so I said I would join him. The two of us left the group and we went on all the rides we wanted. I did not care much about my fears, I just went along, which was odd for me. Especially when I say it once more that I had no male friends at that time. One on one with a guy I felt very insecure. We knew when the show was over, so we went to await the others at the main gate. We were exhausted so we sat down, out of a speaker there played some music. All of a sudden a song came on by Céline Dion. I was surprised that I recognized it, as I only downloaded it the week before going to Spain. It was a terribly itchy cheesy song, but for my current situation very fitting. So I sat there, enjoying the irony of a song describing my exact emotions, not saying a word about them. Then the group came back and the moment was over. 

Right now, as I have Spotify on shuffle, the song Hosanna came on, another one of my all time favourites. I remember a time where I could not bear to listen to Christian music. I didn't feel like praising God, so I thought that I was lying when I listened to those songs nevertheless. The only song I didn't skip on my mp3 was this. 

I mentioned earlier that I care about lyrics more than I do care about tunes. I really do, especially when I find that the singer does not represent the words of the song correctly. I have spent hours searching for covers of songs, until in my head the voice and lyrics aligned. I also refuse to listen to any music I don't understand the lyrics off. With the exception of some party tunes due to nostalgia I mostly listen to songs that I at least some sort of agree with the lyrics with. If you want to go on my nerves start blasting Pitbull with "whistleblower" or "wiggle", that'll do. Or sing "take me to church" as a friend of mine has been doing recently. I prefer not having those stuck in my head, thank you.

A lot of people I know care so much about music. Some songs have carried me through a lot, and the past two weeks I have been listening to worship music more than usually, due to reasons I might explain later. Still, I know that I feel way better when stuck with words, written words, black on white. A tune can carry an emotion much easier than a word, music is universal. Maybe that's why I'm more impressed with the other, as you are limited by language. How to express something like an emotion with words? It does make less sense than expressing it by a melody. Also, have you ever heard of songs that carry a story? I love those!

To be honest I just assume that I have a very unpopular opinion on music. I know so many people who care about it beyond all measures, that go to oh so many concerts in their life, that pay lots of money for it and kind of just crazy. I can't really understand that. I use it as a means to an end when I study for something or write on a paper. Sometimes I also just relax to it, but that is a rare occurrence. I have cried cause of songs, laughed, I felt emotions due to some, but that does not change how I feel about it in general. Yes, songs have me inspired to write before, as they will continue but music does not mean everything to me and that is just the way it is, which works out fine for me. Music is not the voice my heart speaks.e I'm quite happy that I don't have to be passionate about it, just imagine how boring that would be. I'll stick with my crappy writing.

Cheerio.

Life: A beautiful mess

I find so much beauty in chaos. Suddenly what seems like scrap or junk is something more. Maybe you see art in it. You might also be inspired to change something, to be better. Chaotic circumstances help me focus on what's important, on the solid rocks in my life. Do more of what makes you happy, and not using to much energy on details does a good job for me there. Over a year ago I was bystander at a very interesting discussion. What I took out of it was one simple sentence. “Try less, be more”. Instead of focusing on improving and revolutionizing, how about every once in a while, just be happy with what you have. Aspire greatness, yes, but there are too many people getting lost somewhere on that path, just because they wanted too much.

There is one thing I could never hide in all my life, one feature that I struggled with over and over and over. As much as I tried, living my life neatly, in order? Not possible. Perfectionism is beyond my reach, and it will always be, so why bother getting there. As it seems, most humans think different there. I have heard many sermons about how that is a typical trait for a human. I haven't heard of many people who enjoy being perfectionists tough, it seems stressful and it seems to be a widely spread issue. Maybe I could even call it a fatal flaw of us. Why? For me, it is part of being a living breathing specimen of the human race to fail, to mess up. There is the difference to robots, we have feelings and sometimes they stop us from functioning. Plans don't always work out; some circumstances cannot be predicted.

Don't get my attitude wrong though. If I set myself goals, then I will achieve them, or go down trying. Depending on what it is, I will put my everything in. I can be lazy occasionally, but I am a natural fighter. I just don't set my goals so high that I, as a living, breathing human, cannot accomplish them. I quite enjoy the feeling of victory when hard work pays off, why pressure myself until I will fail? Where is the logic behind that? So many people suffer from burn-outs because they have overstepped their borders. I don’t want that in my life. I’ll just accept that plans will go wrong; that I’ll forget things and that I will fail, because those things just happen anyway. Embrace the mess that is a human life!

I remember the first time I realized that, no matter what, I am chaotic and I should start to accept that. My grades in geography were not at their best and the teacher told me that I could improve them by doing a presentation about this island in the South Atlantic Ocean. As I thought I was quite good with presentations, I took the chance. I don't remember much about it, but it was somehow of a mess. He gave me a feedback in the front of the class stating: "Well, I guess your chaos is what makes you likeable". That little phrase kind of stuck with me ever since then.

In my opinion, I wouldn't be that creative. It took me years to use that word to describe myself, but I am a bag of ideas of which most are not to be used. The other once, the rest, is pure gold. You need to be a little mad, a little crazy to try NaNo, to write stories, to write a blog... I have found that little spark of craziness within me; it is fueled by chaos and life in general. I wouldn't trade the feeling you get when inspiration strikes you for anything, because for a moment, life just is infinite and everything is possible. That is kind of hard to believe if you don't let yourself feel that, because you prefer to keep your life in place.

It happens nevertheless, that I'm occasionally drawn to perfectionism. There is room for that in this pandemonium I call my life. In chemistry and physics there is the concept of entropy, usually entropy increases naturally, which basically means that by nature, chaos spreads whereas order is energy infused (most of the times). A garden, when not looked after, will have a lot of different weeds growing randomly, some flowers, seeds and what not. Still, it could be beautiful. On the other hand, I would never say a man-made garden is not nice to look at. There is even a chance, even if incredibly small, that perfect happens out of chaos. Sometimes it's not a question of one or the other.

A while ago there was someone at our church that has a special gift with telling people what God wants to say to them. A prophet one could say. I could not write this post without speaking about that experience, as it kind of touched the subject. I’m just listening back to it and I am simply impressed. The first thing he said was that I speak a lot (which I thought was plain visible as I was talking to my friends during most of his sermon). Then he added about teachers not taking me seriously due to that, and how I still managed to achieve my goals, leaving them speechless. That’s nothing he could’ve known though. The last thing was the most impressive one. He told me, that I needed to organize my life better. I can safely say that my mouth dropped at that. I’d say you cannot see the chaos around me if you don’t know me at all, so he was onto something. I love being who I am, but being told by an absolute stranger to get my life in order kind of is a statement.

We all have edges, rough patches. We are a mixture of paradoxes, still somehow existing. Well I am at least. Some pieces aren't supposed to fit, but they do. Isn't that the whole beauty of being alive? Chaos and order are not necessary opponents; maybe they are two pieces of the same thing? There is a saying that I loved since I heard it the first time: Everybody can handle order, but only a genius thrives on the chaos. This might be a bit of a rough translation, but apparently Einstein said it (never trust the internet, kids). Thus, I will try to thrive on my chaos now as I’ll go to clean my room. A little bit of both, as I said.

Cheerio.