Photo: just.K on Flickr

I’ve been noticing more and more how music is a unique and vital part of my life. It’s what moves me, what relaxes me, what compels me and what frees me from the world around me.

Music has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I was little I’d wake up to my dad playing beautiful classical or big band jazz on his stereo; he had a giant record collection. Sometimes he would play the radio, but whatever was on added something that warmed our home and all of us in it. That’s actually one of my fondest memories of my childhood: waking up to my dad’s music and seeing him sitting at the dining table, grading papers or writing report cards.

I started playing piano when I was 6. I always grumbled about practicing, but I loved playing duets with my brother and my friend Sarah, with whom I took lessons. The first pop music I remember was the release of Michael Jackson’s Thriller album in 1983 – I was 8. Around 10 years old I was firmly enjoying the Mini-Pops, my friend’s parents’ ABBA albums and playing air guitar with the neighbourhood boys. It was also at that age that I started playing the trumpet in the school band.

Photo: papalars on Flickr

In high school I discovered my talent for singing but was way too shy to use it. I did a couple of musical productions and sung in a few school talent shows and whatnot; but mostly I stuck to my trumpet and various bands I was a part of. I played in school concert band, jazz band, orchestra, and a community band… at one point I played in all 4 at the same time. I was never a particularly great trumpet player but loved it anyway. I still didn’t enjoy practicing much – probably because the sound of a trumpet alone didn’t move me… but when I played with a full band that was when the music would awaken something in me.

I still play now.

The thing I’ve noticed about music is that it calms me in the midst of life’s turmoil, deadlines, busy-ness, and stress. It is physically impossible for me to think about other things while I play. I’m thinking about sound, tuning, the notes, the rhythm, the dynamics, the emotion… I can’t think about my work, my worries. I can’t think about my shortcomings or my failures, my insecurities or even my hopes and dreams. It’s just me and the music right there in that moment: the sweet sound of serenity.

Music has become my escape. It’s the only time I can truly turn off all the other thoughts that swirl around my head constantly. For that couple of hours every Monday night when I rehearse with my band it’s like the world fades away and I get to recharge. During those precious times when we play for an audience the expectation challenges me, awakens me, thrills me.

It’s the same, incidentally, when I sing at my church. In that moment, I feel like I was created to make music. Nothing more, nothing less. And lately I’ve been feeling a calling to write. I feel like there are songs inside of me that someone needs to hear… like a message to someone I don’t yet know.

Photo: kayugee on Flickr

I am so moved when people play a beautiful melody or sing with passion; it’s like you can see their soul… like you can hear it. Like parts of them are stripped away and all that’s left is the heart and their intentions. Even when I was very young I found myself crushing on boys who played beautiful solos because in that short span of time, they were just their authentic selves. And while at this point in my life I’ve long passed the adolescent homonal rampages, the beauty of that glimpse into a person’s soul hasn’t faded for me. It’s still something I cherish. I see it in my brother, whose gentleness emerges in the sound of his trombone; I see it in the faces of my musician friends when they play from the heart.

It’s a part of every musician… and it’s very special.