Return of the Muse

I have always loved music. From the time I was a little kid I loved to sit down with an instrument and just let the music flow out. I admit that there were, and are, some times when what was flowing into the air was more like pollution rather than sweet music, but I still loved doing it. It was a form of expressing myself, a way to make others smile, and an outlet to step outside of reality for a moment.

Although only a handful of people have ever heard my pieces, I also love to compose music. Just sitting and creating a piece that is completely fresh and new is something that I can spend hours doing and days agonizing over in order to get the sounds "just right." Writing music is a big outlet for me when words just won't do. Sometimes l like to think that there is a muse sitting next to me and softly humming the melody into my ear. This becomes even more fitting since the file extensions on my Finale program are ".mus" (nerdy, yes, but I have to feel like the muse is getting some credit with every music file I save on my computer).

Unfortunately, until a few nights ago I haven't been able to compose a decent piece of music for the past 8 months-- and how I did try! I would sit and look at a blank staff and wait for that soft whisper but it just wouldn't come anymore. I feel like this boils down to the fact that I had linked my muse to a specific person in my life. I felt that when she left, so did my inspiration, and this became extremely problematic for me. At a time when I felt like I needed the musical outlet the most, I felt that I had been abandoned by my muse. In reality, I had really been pushing the muse away.

This last Thursday, I heard the whisper again (metaphorically speaking, of course). I had just finished watching a movie when I started humming a tune I had never heard before. In pure excitement I ran to my computer and started writing. Four hours later I had finally managed a piece that I could consider "mostly finished." This small event was exciting for me for a couple different reasons. First and foremost I could finally write music again! I had worried that my muse would never return. Secondly, this helped show me that I am continuing to move forward with my life and that my muse is something that cannot be taken away. I refuse to allow past hurts to prevent me from doing the things I enjoy or things that define who I am. Life is too short and some things in it are too wonderful for me to spend my time living under a rock. Besides, the underside of rocks are dark and smelly--and there are spiders.

Here's to Day's Just Packed with music!