Music Is My Life
I have always loved music. When I was 3 or 4, I got a Michael Jackson record player for Christmas. It was one of those items that made it through a turbulent childhood marked with a lot of moving. Only when I moved from Las Vegas to Memphis at 28 did I leave it behind. It was not just for show. The record player was a well used and well loved piece. By the time I was 7, I had my own stack of 45s, which ran the gambit from Madonna to Elton John to Elvis to George Strait. Coupled with my beloved walkman, and later discman, I have never been too far from music playing.
As I have aged and music technology has changed, I’ve grown with it. It is the one thing I always wanted the latest and greatest of. Countless dollars of allowance, loose change in the couch, and the random penny found on the street went toward saving for the next great music player. I have lost count of how many walkmans, diskmans, and MP3 players I have owned over the years. Two things I have always been able to lose myself in are music and books.
Back in the days of Napster and Limewire, I had flash and Zip drives full of music. I loved being able to download individual songs instead of buying a whole album just to burn or rip one song. Now, my iPhone is full of music bought and downloaded from Apple Music. I can take it anywhere and have my music catalogue at my fingertips. Instead of CDs burned with the songs I like, I have playlists crafted to my tastes and emotions I want to evoke:
Songs to groove to
It goes on and on. I probably spend more time than I should customizing playlists and songs, but it is truly a happy place and a part of self care.
I have my “ride or die” songs but also newer music I rotate into my collection. My newest playlist, ‘Recovery Focus,’ is crafted with songs which lift my spirit and have a particular message of self love and perseverance. If you have not heard them before, I hope you will incorporate them into your own musical tastes.
I have a particular fondness for the image of a Phoenix rising from the ashes. I see the powerful red bird every time I hear this song. Andra Day’s voice also makes me envious I can’t sing worth a lick. I apologize for butchering your beautiful song when I belt it out in my home or car.
I love Kesha’s version too, but I like the Cast version a little bit more. As somebody with poor self and body image, this song speaks to that part of me that needs to know it is okay to be who I am and I do not need to apologize for that.
I have a core belief I am not enough. The first time I heard her song, I was driving in the car and from the first line I was crying: “I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I’m not enough.” For me, I switch the religious component of God to that small part within who advocates I am, indeed, enough.
I heard this song durning a time when I was really struggling with my eating disorder. Loving your body when you feel disgusted with it is difficult. Jessia captures the struggle with catchy lyrics yet a rawness which weaves within and makes me want to believe I am indeed pretty.
I think this song may speak to a lot of People Pleasers who are constantly tearing themselves open to help others at the detriment of themselves. We bleed and heal and bleed and heal until there comes a point where we can’t do it anymore.
Photo Credit Mohammad Metri @mohammadmetri on Unsplash