Music is very important to me. I am not a musician and I cannot create music of my own. But when I listen, I really listen. I sometimes think of music as an old testament alter with smoke wafting into the air. The prevailing winds determine the patterns and intensity of the listening experience. When I am in a state of musical rapture, I just wish I could dissolve into the smoke.
Yesterday, I found out that my son has had a previously undiagnosed stricture in his urethra. It requires that a semi-permanent foley catheter be left in for a couple of months. This would not be such a big deal, were we not in the midst of having his let extended, an extremely invasive procedure. I took the news badly and have been in a dismal funk since hearing the news.
Then this morning, when I got to my desk, I started listening to Led Zeppelin’s Kashmir. I closed my eyes and just absorbed the sorrowful tones. This is not peppy music to raise your spirits. It is gut wrenching notes of mourning. But when I let my soul commingle with the sounds reverberating in my ears, I have a sense that I am not alone. Many have traveled this road before and I will not be the last. It pulls me from the brink and gives me sanguine sense of peace.