It's the Little Things

It's 3:15AM and here I am starting a post. I couldn't help it. I was compelled to write. I was listening to music at random on iTunes when a Tyrone Wells song came on. Happy As the Sun came on, to be exact.

It was the strangest thing, really.

We all know the power that music has. That power to take us back to a specific moment. Just like a scent can make you feel like you're standing in your grandma's kitchen on Christmas, instead of a bakery on a Tuesday in July.

Songs make you remember things that you might otherwise forget.

I remember, with fondness, having my first dance with a boy at a middle school dance. I danced to My Heart Will Go On with a boy I had a crush on, named Dylan. And much like Celine's heart, the song went on and on; and the awkward dance droned on along with it. If I could go back, I'd tell my 6th grade self to make up an excuse (Would you excuse me? I cut my foot before and my shoe is filling up with blood.) and tell him that I'd cash in a rain check for the next slow song.

I remember the song that the pep band played as we went to halftime during the game when I made 6 3-pointers in the first half. As we ran off the court, to the locker room, the band played Hey! Baby and the crowd sang along. That was the night I earned the nickname Tres. I hear that song and I get butterflies in my stomach as if I'm still 17, wearing blue and gold and calling myself a "Lady Tiger". I can almost hear my coach yelling, "Motion!"

Anyway.

Tonight, as I was saying, Happy As the Sun started playing and I thought about my friend, Kelly (who introduced me to Tyrone Wells' music), and the few times we saw him play at Linfield. After that song started playing, I decided I only wanted to listen to Mr. Wells at the moment, so I typed his name in the search and watched as all songs, but his, disappeared.

The next song, which is the song that made me want to write, was Sea Breeze. The first measures of music began to play and, had I closed my eyes, I could have sworn I was back in my sophomore year at Linfield.

It really is wonderfully stunning how a song can take you back to a place you haven't been in years.

As I listened, there I was back in Larsell 106, lying on my bed with a desk lamp on, staring aimlessly at my shadowed ceiling.

I'd like to say that this song took me back to a brilliant time, but at that moment in room 106, I was unhappy.

The interesting part of it all, is that as the memory flooded back, so did the emotions and my physical reactions to them. I specifically remember feeling like I was carrying weights at all times and was constantly struggling to be happy. It was the beginning of a particularly rough couple of years for me.

I won't go into it. But I could feel all of that.

I just thought it was amazing the way the song did that.

And though it wasn't a brilliant moment in my life during the time I was living it, it was completely impressive how the song made me look back at the moment with the same fondness as my first dance.

I wish I could effectively explain the difference between that moment and this one. The only way I can think to explain it is to say that:

Everything then was so heavy, whereas things now are light and radiant. Then: every little thing felt more like a wrecking ball of discourage. Now: it's the little things, good and bad, that fill me with motivation, excitement and wonder.

For this, I am grateful.

Until next time,
Find: Love. Grace. Music. Little things.