Music has healing power, I swear.
People ask me “Why do you wanna be a Journalist?”, in the roundabout way; music has been a huge influence in this. Musicians are interesting-behind the songs, there is always a story-and besides, you get to ask the questions! And concerts, in spite of the many sensory hazards, are a lot of fun for me.
My iPHONE is my music library; a “special treat” is buying a voucher, and downloading two or three albums from iTunes. (Because, well, linking my card to my phone would be a bad idea; the account balance would all be gone. So, it’s a safety measure.) Besides, I can’t lug around a vinyl player with me. And it goes with me everywhere. For reasons of hypersensitivity, I wear headphones wherever I go; I listen to podcasts, music, etc. This way, I block out the excess of noise that can often be intrusive; I won’t have a ‘meltdown’ that way.
I downloaded Under Stars, Amy MacDonald’s latest album, recently. Autumn is one of my favourite months; there’s piles of leaves, the occasional acorn falling from a tree, and the music.
When walking my dog in the local park, we go to the woods first; the terrain is rocky enough to demand flats. Heels you can wear, you could attempt to wear them; but it’s not comfortable. And your feet will hurt, usually.
My headphones are in my ears.
The song begins its introduction.
The dog sits, waiting. Sometimes he’s unclipped for this, sometimes I have him on a lead, if there’s people about.
“But I’ll still run, run like the wind…”
We’re pelting forward, running; past the lady with the tiny happy puppy, past the smoking teenagers, past the couple who are ‘entwined’ together, past the man coming out his garden, past the nursery school outing, past the cricketeers.
“And I’ll still start, all over again..”
We don’t care about the odd looks we get, the sniggers, people who act in alarm (I don’t know why, we’re always out the way, giving a wide berth of three or four feet.)
We aren’t running for attention, to be commented upon. We’re doing it for ourselves-because I enjoy it, and the dog, well, needs exercise because of what he sneakily eats.
I feel powerful, out of breath, and…strong. I feel happy. And this is when I feel most alive.