I am thoroughly enjoying the shuffle on my iPod. Cruz was always good at choosing the perfect music for the moment. I have always been intrigued about how there always is method to the madness in music. How a note can evoke something deep within your soul. How a lyric can say something so profound, or so stupid. And of course, the moments when you begin to listen to the radio, or some mix CD long forgotten, and every song seems to say something, strike a chord, know exactly what to say in relation to how you are feeling. Right now Cruz (yes, I named my iPod) is choosing the perfect songs. I have over sixteen days of music, and even with that immense amount of choice, Cruz has managed to play perfect examples of my thoughts and feelings, has managed to pull emotions out of my chest that I knew were there, barely dormant, and breathe life into them. The question becomes, do we see and hear what we want from the music, or does the music really know us.
I am not saying that Cruz, even if he has personality, has artificial intelligence. He does emote, he cannot talk, he does not walk, and though I love him like a person (his death will be felt), he is not a person, he cannot relate to me. But here he is, with shuffle going, bringing out songs that echo my sentiments. And believe me, not every song on my iPod would echo what I am feeling now. But somehow the first five songs (and only five songs played so far) have struck something deep within me. (And I haven’t touched my iPod in two weeks, there has not been frequent listens, and if there has been in the past month, those songs haven’t been played, nor do they exactly portray what I am and have felt.)
Music is a beautiful thing. I never knew how to handle people who did not appreciate music, who could not listen to it and experience it. I know everyone has different ways how to handle things, but my outlet has always been music. I cannot play it (flute and guitar were my two instruments, though I failed miserably at both), but I know the importance it carries to musicians. I feel there is a part of me that was/is a musician, but something broke within me before I could fully learn. Like the ex-athlete who coaches for a living. Music always surrounded me when I was young. I was a dancer, and learned to emphasize rhythms and beats with my body. I am a poet and appreciate lyrics. And even though I feel more wordsmith than musician, I understand the poetry in music, the story behind it, the rapture and emotion evoked by notes blending together, by bass rhythms and percussion, twinkling harp and piano, and methodical and mathematical guitar. These are the things I feel in my chest, ricocheting out my extremities, buzzing in my head.