Zone Out, Tune In, and Live the Adventure
Finding Perspective Through Music You Love
Do you ever wish you could close your eyes and just go somewhere else? Perhaps you’ve had a bad day. Maybe you need to escape your world for a few minutes to regain perspective. Maybe you envision yourself as the hero in your own little movie.
Well then, this post is for you. I want to share with you how I escape to imagination-land.
It’s going to take a little effort on your part, but you won’t need anything more than the device you’re using to read this.
Find a quiet place. Maybe somewhere where you’d meditate, if that’s your thing. But you can do it anywhere, as long as you can focus and hear the music.
I’m hoping you’ll be willing to listen to some music. It’s a piece of classical music which sings tot he listener.
Below are three links. You choose which you want to use. Just click or tap one of the links and then the appropriate “play” button. Also, if you know how, make sure you put the song on repeat or loop. It’s short.
Get that music playing in the background and then come back and read.
(The Spotify link above is the exact track I listened to as I composed this article today. It’ll work if you have and use Spotify.)
Here it is on iTunes. (This is my preferred performance, just a bit faster than the others here. It’s also the first recording I ever heard of the piece.)1
And here it is on YouTube:
I like most types of music. I can listen to most anything for a time, and I’ll pick the genre based on the mood I’m in at a given moment. But most of the time I gravitate towards two closely related types. The first is movie themes.
That’s right, I’m one of those people who will open my music app and search for John Williams, Hans Zimmer, John Barry, or Michael Giacchino (among so many others) and just veg out.
Music has a way of tapping into our emotions. In movies it’s used to make sure we feel what the director or story-teller wants us to feel as we watch a scene. Think of a movie that makes you cry. Then think of the specific scene in the movie. I think there’s a good chance you might not cry if the music wasn’t there to prod you over the emotional edge.
Sometimes when I’m driving I’m able to pretend I’m in a movie. I’ll have the music playing, and then I’ll begin to notice the world outside my car windows whizzing by. If I pay attention, I can sync the rhythm of the things passing by with the cadence of the music coming from the speakers. When this happens, I feel swept away into a different place. I’m able to do this on command, and it’s incredible.
Some time when you’re driving on a country road or something, give it a try. At first you’ll have to think about it. But as you do it more often, you’ll get better. If you’re interested, I suggest the theme to Forrest Gump which was composed by Alan Sylvestri. It’s one of my favorite ways to get away even while still here. Let your imagination run, and let the music guide your spirit.
Or, next time you’re driving through snow at night, with the snow zooming through the light from your headlights, put on The Imperial March from Star Wars, or the theme from Star Trek. This one is super easy.
Enjoy.
My second go-to when it comes to music is classical, usually classical piano music. This is where I find my favorite song, or “piece” as we might refer to a work in the classical style.
It was composed by Frederick Chopin. His Berceuse in D-Flat Major, Opus 57 has a similar effect on me that movie music does when I play it in my car.
If you’re listening, take note of the bassline. It’s steady and rhythmic, almost a sort of walking bassline. This is part of what grabs me. It’s constant through the piece. Something we always know is there. It provides a harmonic and melodic context with which the right hand … plays with?
Interacts with?
Adheres to with joy?
I’m not sure how to describe it with words. But that’s kind of the point, right? When we’re deeply moved sometimes words won’t work well.
To me, the song represents how life is supposed to be. For sure, my feelings about the piece are influenced by my religious upbringing. Here’s what I mean-
The lower notes played by the left hand, the bassline, represent God, or the universe, or the higher power I believe is there. It’s always there, a constant in the universe which we can play with and tap into to create beautiful music with our life.
The higher notes played by the right hand represent me, or us. It doesn’t start out all that impressive. But as the piece goes on, we begin to experiment with the music and try new things, growing faster as we gain more experience and confidence with the knowledge that the constant is always there behind us, backing us up as we traverse through life.
If you listen closely, you’ll note the bassline never changes. It’ll slow down a bit, to match the needs of the right hand, but the constant is … constant. It doesn’t change until the very end, and when it does it’s with intent.
As the left hand is there to guide, the right hand does its own thing almost as if it’s making its own music. It couldn’t be more different than the bassline. It runs up and down the keyboard, seeming to play with every tone available to it. Then, after several lines of quick scales and trills, it’s as if the right hand begins to rest, appreciating what it’s been through and experienced. It begins to slow down with purpose, reveling in its lived experience.
And as the right hand relishes what it’s been through it begins to be willing to look at the world in different ways, maybe just a bit. As it does, the bassline actually shifts to help, or meet the new understanding, outlook and perhaps even wisdom. It’s not much of a change, just one little note in the middle of the walk. Then one more little change to stick with the life of the right hand, and then finally back to the constant we’ve grown to appreciate.
Finally, at the end of the song, the bassline stops walking. So does the play of the right hand. And they come together in one a chord. (Actually, it’s two chords, but I’m hoping you’ll pick up on some word play there.)
It’s as if God says to me, “That’s a job well done. We’re now one.” We walk into the cosmos together, hand in hand, ready to see what new wonders we’ll discover.
At least that’s how I like to look at life and my relationship to the divine.
I know it’s a pie-in-the-sky, “rainbows and unicorns” way of seeing life. Life isn’t always beautiful. It’s often difficult and hard. Every once in a while I’ll come across something in the world that reminds me how good I’ve had it. I know my life has been easy. There are some who might read this and laugh, not so much at me but at the idea that life can be anything like how I’ve described this piece.
So, I guess I don’t look at Berceuse as what life is like, but what it could be like, if we made efforts to help others live a life like I’ve lived.
I hope when my life comes to an end, I’m able to look back at my human experience with gratitude, walking into whatever is next with the experience and wisdom I’ve gained.
I don’t believe in heaven in the same way I did when I was a child. I don’t understand it as a place we go to reap a reward for a life well-lived, or for making the right faith statements. I’m not looking forward to “resting in the arms of Jesus.” Frankly, heaven the way I used to understand it now seems astonishingly dull and self-centered. The ways I used to talk about and understand the afterlife sound more like religious platitudes we say to make us feel better about death. Specifically, hopes that we see people we loved again when we get to wherever it is we’re headed.
I’m looking forward to passing to the next … whatever … in hopes that my earthly experience has prepared me for new post-death realities and responsibilities. That the way I’ve lived here has prepared me (whatever that is) and shown me capable and willing to walk with the constant tones of the divine (also, whatever that is).
In the world I inhabit today, I seek the foundational essence of life, striving for harmony and uncovering improvements as I engage with the unwavering cadences of the Divine.
So, that’s my favorite song: Berceuse Berceuse in D-Flat Major, Opus 57, by Frederick Chopin.
Thank God for him and his work.
I used to play the piano and one of the pieces I played is on this album (track #4). That makes me feel good. Also, I wish I never quit. I think…
This is absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing both your thoughts as well as this music.