What’s Your Soundtrack?

I have a quote for you to play with this week.  This one is from American motivational speaker Denis Waitley: “Life is the movie you see through your own eyes. It makes little difference what’s happening out there. It’s how you take it that counts.”

Now here’s my question for you:  What’s the soundtrack of your movie?  And what would happen if you changed it?

You know how, when a movie starts, the soundtrack tells you a lot about the feel of the movie?  You get a sense right away whether it’s going to be suspenseful, or nostalgic, or funny.  The soundtrack sets your expectations about the kind of story that’s about to unfold.

So I ask you again:  What’s the soundtrack of your movie?  And what would happen if you changed it?

Once I was having a really frustrating time at work.  I had this co-worker who really got under my skin.  My teeth would clench the moment she walked into my office.   Her voice was one of those finger-nails-on-the-chalkboard, high-pitched whiny voices.  Even her gestures irritated me. 

I struggled for a long time trying to learn to like her, or at least to be able to endure her presence without wanting to explode.  Then one day I happened to have the radio playing quietly in the background when she walked in. Some playful little tune was on that reminded me of old-fashioned TV sitcoms, maybe an episode of “I Love Lucy,” if you’re old enough to remember that.  And that did the trick.

All of a sudden the movie I was seeing through my own eyes turned into a comedy, and my co-worker could have won the Oscar for best supporting actress.  Everything she said seemed funny.  Her voice seemed funny.  Her gestures were hilarious.  I managed not to laugh out loud, but I’m sure I smiled more brightly at her than I ever had.  And you know what?  Because I was relaxed and happy, she softened somehow and relaxed, too. 

We both saw each other in a whole new light that day, and we worked together much more easily from then on.

I remember another day when a change in my soundtrack made a difference, too.  It was the day after my mother died and I was standing on my front porch watching the sunrise, full of an aching grief over my loss.  But then, as the clouds took on color, the key of my soundtrack changed just a bit into a sweeter sound and melted my grief into a kind of peaceful acceptance, and an inner knowing that Mom would always be with me.

Music has great power to color our emotions.  There’s even some science that maps the connection between feelings and sounds.   But you don’t need to know the science to make it work for you.  Just play with it. 

When you’re in an uncomfortable or stressful situation, try imagining what the soundtrack for it is like.  Then experiment with imagining a different kind of tune. 

Comedic music can make a surprising difference in your perspective.  But play with different genres. Pay attention to the background music in movies that you watch and see how it underscores the mood of the scene.  Keep a little collection of a range of mental tapes on hand.  You can practice while you’re doing mundane things like walking or driving or shopping or cleaning, even while you’re taking a shower, and see how it changes your perspective and your mood.

Because it is your movie, as Waitley says.  And because you’re the producer, director and star of it all at once, you can change it any way you want, at any time.

Me?  I’m going for romance this week:  I plan to fall in love with life all over again.

Wishing you chart-topping hits this week, every single day.

Warmly,
Susan

Image by Mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

The Final Witness

The woods were still dark, the morning sun
only now rising on the sleeping scene,
the branches bare, the revelry over,
the previous night’s rain having washed
to the ground the bits of what remained.

Except for the flaming scarlet song floating
down the hillside through the night’s debris,
I might have missed her altogether,
there, at the crest of the hill, her leaves alone
remaining. She sang as one deep in reverie,
uttering a last, personal blessing over all
that she had witnessed here since spring,
humbled perhaps at the realization
that she got to be the final witness of it all.
Imagine that. The last one.

Season Opener

The night before I came across
this water-washed sculpture
made of the roots of a tree
and time and weather,
I watched a great buck
with a multi-pointed crown
slowly climb the western hill,
listening, watching, the first
I’ve seen this season.

“A deer.” The word sprang
to my mind the moment
I saw this graceful figure,
hewn from a tree, here by the creek.
I stepped closer, taking in
the creation’s lines and texture
and colors, the sorts of things
I learned to notice last winter
when that was all that was left
to see. And now the season
of such seeing begins again
and something eager rises
within me.

Stopover

Getting there is one thing.
The destination’s the main reason
for the journey, I suppose.
But it’s not everything, and maybe
not even the most important.
Once you reach it, after all, another
soon takes its place. Always
there is more to see and do.
Just maybe it’s the journey itself
that matters most, the times
you paused along the way to look around,
to feel yourself being, alive, savoring
the company, the day’s fine view.

Companions

Blessed are we when we have a companion
who lingers by our sides as we travel our days,
someone whose heart holds our own gently,
who flows with our moods without judgment,
who understands our thoughts and ways,
someone who makes the days of peace
more lovely, and the days of darkness
easier to bear, who lends strength
when we are weak, and who applauds
us when we’re strong, someone whose
smile is as warm as sunshine, and whose
love lets us know that our life is worthwhile.

Before the Winter Dreams

They don’t settle down right away.
Like children tucked into bed
after an exciting day, the trees
take some time to sink into silence.
First, they must whisper stories
to each other, to giggle and tease.
They must wiggle a bit and ease
themselves into just the right
position before the winter dreams
will come, floating in like clouds
on a snowy evening. But then,
what stillness! And beneath it,
what stupendous dreams they dream!

This Exquisite Moment

This exquisite moment, like them all,
was, you know, inevitable, poured
from all the causes that came before.
From the instant the first note was sung,
all the others followed, arising
from its tone.  These woods, this slant
of sunlight, my hand lifting the camera
to catch them, your eyes seeing the scene,
your mind sensing its warmth and depth,
all these were inherent in that first
pure note, that first exhalation
of the perfect, infinite Song.

Before the Music, Silence

Just before the music begins,
silence flows through the hall.
Before his arrow flies, the archer
holds the bow string still and taut.
The creek gathers itself in stillness
before it cascades in its fall.
The great song of being travels
in oscillating waves, the ebb
becoming the flow, the up the down,
the off the on, the hush the rush.
And in the space between,
the deep and silent space,
Love breathes its song.

How to Change the World

I ran across a quote this week that has long been meaningful for me. It’s by author “George Eliot”, the pen name of Mary Ann Evans, one of the leading English writers of the mid-1800’s.

“Wear a smile and have friends; wear a scowl and have wrinkles,” she said. Then she added this powerful line: “What do we live for if not to make the world less difficult for each other?”

It was rather synchronistic that I happened on that particular quote this week, for two reasons.

The first reason is that I had a remarkable experience early in the week. It was a gorgeous autumn day, warm and sunny with the last bits of scarlet and gold dancing in the trees, and I had been in the woods with my camera—one of my very favorite things to do. I found myself catapulted into what I call “a trance of beauty.” My spirits were high, and when I stopped to pick up a couple groceries on my way home, I found myself seeing beauty in every face I gazed on.

People noticed me looking at them, a smile on my face, and even the ones that seemed burdened and care-worn inevitably smiled back and returned my “Hello.” I could actually see them brightening for a moment, as if they suddenly felt recognized and affirmed somehow. It was magical, and I was moved by the power a simple smile held.

The other reason the quote struck me was because it’s second part – “What do we live for if not to make the world less difficult for each other?” – both summarized and answered for me, the unformed question that rolls around like a tangled knot inside me when I see the division and conflict around me.

We have been propagandized on every side into dropping each other into labeled bins, “for” or “against” whatever issue we can name, into seeing each other as either ally or enemy instead of recognizing each other as a fellow human being. And worse, we have somehow, it seems, fallen into a snare of thinking those who are “against” our positions deserve to be silenced, banished, at least from our personal spheres, and perhaps even from the face of the earth.

That sounds pretty drastic, I know. But it’s a stance I witness every day, to my deep sorrow. I don’t know how to cure it on a mass level. I suspect the cure must rise from the grass roots—from you and me. As the wise, old saying goes, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” If you want to see more respect between people, give it. If you want to see more tolerance, more kindness, be more tolerant, be kind.

What do we live for, if not to make life less difficult for one another?

To that I can only say Amen.

Wishing you a week where you strive to personify all the best that you wish to see in the world. You can always begin with a smile.

Warmly,
Susan

This Spell of Comfort

Don’t let these warm days fool you.
Do you not see that the sycamores
have given their all? That the gold
of the maples has fallen? In the woods
the squirrels are busily burying nuts
and growing thick fur. Treat this
mild spell of comfort as a grace,
given you to gather memories of color
and soft air, of flowing waters
where leaves float like boats
and ducks paddle freely
through a still-liquid world.
Take it as a kindness, given
by the Yes, as a treasure for you
to hold in your heart, to warm
you when the winds blow cold.