Do you ever notice little birds when they haven’t quite
mastered the art of flying? One minute they are sweeping over your head
effortlessly, but in the exact same slot of sky, the graceful gliding is
replaced with frantic flapping. I often think this is how I am. Many people
liken themselves to a swan – peddling like mad under the surface, but not me, I
noticeably fly or visibly fall.
Recently I have been falling. You see, I’m not sure where my
jigsaw fits at the minute. Normally, as a typical right brain thinker, I hate
to be tied to logic and reason, but, right now I am not too sure where my place
in the world is. I feel like a movie that has gone out of sync with the
soundtrack. My god that is annoying when that happens.
So how does one deal with the sense of lost-ness? They turn
the music up so incredibly loud that thoughts cannot be heard. It’s a bit like
the moment in Bridget Jones ‘I choose Vodka and Chakah Khan’. Well no vodka for
me, tis a school night after all, and I’m not a lover of Chakah Khan. Uh, so
maybe not like Bridget Jones after all...
Vodka is all well and good, but the next morning not only
have you consumed a ridiculous amount of calories (and probably embarrassed yourself
horribly), but you also have a mouth like a wet dog and the head of a hollow
tree hosting a woodpecker convention. It’s at times like this you realise all
you actually need, is some ear-splitting stompy music. In fact, I am getting so
good at music therapy, that I even have playlists on my ipod entitled ‘Pain’
and ‘Fun stompyness’.
At this point I am listening to Imelda May’s ‘Smokers Song’
and I can’t help but notice that my fingers keep attempting to roam from the
keyboard, into some twenties style finger waggle. Ah heck, am ending this post
now for full on dancy-ness.
The power of music.
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