“I just have one question,” she said, her face glowing over the song lyrics she had just written. “Is it always this much fun?”
“Yes,” I smiled back. “It pretty much always is…”
My young friend is inspiring in many ways. She has a beautiful zest for life. Her authenticity is encouraging to witness, especially for someone like me, who, especially at that age, was more concerned with blending in, not being noticed, and hustling for approval. I love her fiery honesty, particularly about her fluctuating emotions, that so often echo my own. One moment songwriting is blissful expression, the next full of frustration and doubt as melodies are grasped at or a first performance isn’t perfect.
I wasn’t sure what her question was going to be, but “Is it always this much fun?” was a perfect reminder to me of the shared joy of creative expression, of feeling “in the flow.” Whether I’m writing, taking photos, flameworking, playing an instrument, singing a melody, delighting in the flow of words…it’s the same. It’s nearly a guilty pleasure—should I be having this much fun? At the same time, I take it as confirmation I’m on the right path—if it feels this in sync, I must be aligning with my true nature.
As a musician and science nerd, I love the concept of resonance. There are multiple definitions depending on what branch of science you’re looking at, but one example in the physics of sound is when, say, you’re listening to a tune and all of sudden, a particular frequency coming from your speaker or a key you play on the piano makes something else in the room shake. I’m not talking about sheer volume rocking the entire house, but, say, a picture on the wall, a glass, a bell—where only that object rattles and shakes and maybe even gives off its own tone while those around it remain inanimate and mute. This can be an issue when performing or recording, when, say, every time a low E string is played something else rattles to distraction. But, I like this image when something in life makes me feel alive, awake, as though shook from my own auto-pilot state.
Works of art do this to me: lines of poetry, a photo, a painting, a melody. Moments in nature do this to me: a sunset, a rock, a flower, a bird song. Certain practices do this for me: yoga, journaling, meditation. And songwriting always does this for me.
Wishing you resonance, things that make you ask, “Is it always this much fun?”, and time and space to engage in those activities.
