Nature’s Orchestra: A comparison to the Rolling Stone interview “The Salvation of Brian Wilson”

In a recent story published by Rolling Stone Magazine titled “The Salvation of Brian Wilson,” the singer/songwriter discusses how music helped him through episodes of depression. I could not agree more with his choice of therapy:

Most of us have experienced what I’ll call “random red light entertainment.” In other words, you’ve chuckled at the headbanger, the steering wheel pounder, and the “like no one is watching” singer.  My friends, I am all three. And whether you’ve seen my performances in person or just smirked at the visual, you’re welcome….that second of distraction was a treasure.

One day, the consequences of playing my music too loud may surface.  But, I am not going to ignore my need for a screaming guitar anytime soon. That sound dissolves sadness, worry, and stress. From the twelve minute drive to work to the all day cleaning spree, music is my drug.

When I am alone and in control, I avoid silence at all costs. Peaceful environments are not appealing. They are open doors that welcome stupid thoughts. I work non stop and clean things that already shine because of an illness I hate, not because I strive to be better than anyone.

I am slowly working on my ability to hide it. In doing so, I often find myself secretly scared when those around me are not. Please remember I am not a bragger or a hypocrite. In fact, I still fail more than I succeed when it comes to remembering my mission. However, when I do stop, look and appreciate, the world becomes somewhere I want to be.

A recent mini-vacation brought me to one of the most peaceful places that I am willing to travel by car. Because I packed my mental ammo, I was able to turn crickets into cymbals, a crackling fire into slaps of a bass, and a friends laughter into some of the most beautiful lyrics I have ever heard.

To my fellow professional depression hiders, you are right. This trip was far from tear-drop free. But,  guess what? I did not let it control the memories of those that deserved to be there, most importantly, me! Indeed, there is proof to my grandpa’s words “practice makes perfect.”

Please remember that whether your enemy is silence, chaos or something else, you are not alone. Close your eyes. Bring the band back together.

YOU are a treasure!

You Can’t Smell Google

Based on a true story, today’s thought will open similarly to a joke, but end with a punchline in the form of a treasure:

A guy walks into a bar. He finds his place at the stool he unofficially owns as the barmaid prepares his order without asking what it is. He was already there when my husband and I arrived, but I would bet that is a pretty accurate scenario. To put it simply, he was an obvious, harmless regular.

Our dining entertainment was the friendly banter between the two. And that night’s topic… a seasoned member of society’s theory behind what’s wrong with the world today. In the opposite corner, an equally passionate individual defending the world, for there is so much of it still ahead of her.  She tried to explain that the “evil” internet is the reason she is still able to pursue a degree while working the long hours required to get by. He countered with memories of conversations without screens and the set of encyclopedias he’s proud to still use. Both had valid points. He preached. She poured. They both smiled the whole time.

It was hard not to eavesdrop. At first, I tried really hard not to. But, then it happened…the patron turned friend referred to the world’s lost piece as appreciation. My ears perked like a puppy and I turned to face him. After what I hoped was his last sip of the day, he sat his empty glass down and said: “You can’t smell Google.”  The glass was retrieved with the promise to see him soon.

The routine visit and opportunity to give another lecture probably made his day. The hour or two with her mind off the daily grind may have made hers as well. Stumbling upon this beautiful relationship most certainly made mine.

My son gave me a flower on the eve of his graduation. That night, I placed my nose to a pedal and slowly inhaled. You are so right, friendly stranger. You can’t smell Google.

YOU are a treasure!