When I first decided to create this blog, I titled it "Thoughts on Education and Other Fun Stuff"; however, to date I have only written about education, and I feel as if "other fun stuff" is starting to feel very much left out--the last person picked for a junior high game of football. So, here is my first post about "other fun stuff."
Not all too many people know that as an 18-year-old entering college, I was actually a vocal music major. I spent my first two-plus years studying to teach and/or perform vocal music for the rest of my life. Inspired by the emotional outlet that music provided, I wanted to share my soul with the world. However, as time went on and this passion turned into a "job", I realized that it was not what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. That said, you would be hard pressed to find a day when I am not inspired by music, transformed by its power, and captivated by its passion.
This past weekend, dreams came true in the form of getting tickets to see Garth Brooks...twice. Growing up, there was no artist whose sound I tried to emulate more, spending hours listening and then singing back (failing), and repeating the process for what seemed to be eternity (or until dad would call me to the table for dinner). Ultimately, I realized that my voice wasn't really built for country music, but I, even to this day, thoroughly enjoy lying to myself and pretending it is. However, something even more special happened this weekend, an unexpected walk down a foggy memory lane filled with pathways and tributaries that I didn't know (or clearly forgot) ever existed.
You see, I went to the Garth Books concert filled with child-like joy and anticipation at the thought of hearing my childhood musical idol live, but what happened was a continual and unending barrage of memories triggered by the power of song. I was able to saunter back to my first real unrequited love (who ironically enough was the first person to play for me Garth's "Unanswered Prayers"--can't make that up) and remember all of the painstaking hours I spent trying to persuade her to go out with me. As the songs changed, so did the memories; I was whimsically swept back to my first true love, frantically transported to those summer nights cruising around town with the boys, and serenely carried to a time when life had no worries. Each song carried with it the inherent power to reanimate the past, to make fading and forgotten moments reappear, grabbing my soul's hand and leading it straight to the dance floor.
However, there was a puzzling yet beautiful duality to these surreal nights. While my soul was dancing with moments from the past, my mind, heart and body were literally dancing with my wife (and friends), recording new memories. What wasn't clear, though, was if these new memories were being recorded over or next to the ones from days long gone? And then, as if he knew I was pondering this great mystery, Garth reflectively narrated, as the opening to the next song, "circles have a funny way of completing themselves." Aside from frantically taking out my phone to quickly record this profound aphorism, I realized why I love music so much and why it's so powerful; Music's power to create memories lies in the subtle ways in which a circle completes itself yet continues on forever. And much like circles, music has a way of completing us, connecting the past to the present while dancing us into the future.
