i recently made a soundtrack.
a friend was embarking on a journey and the friend and i have been pretty tight for awhile and this friend is going to be sorely missed around these parts. its not that we still wont talk every day. its not like i cant call when i need to. there is skype and facetime and some other application on our macbooks that would allow us to speak “face to face” as often as we like. but thats kind of not the point of his journey, or this post.
so i had made a soundtrack for him to pop in from time to time. its a mishmash of songs from various nights and events and conversations. every song has a specific memory attached. some make me laugh. some make me cry. all of them remind me how lucky i am for all of those memories. and i know we will make more over the years to come.
but that isnt the point of this either.
so, the the boys and i decided to go on a bike ride since its nice enough again for us to do that without being miserable and as we are riding through our park i’m flooded with so many images and stories.
there are moms pushing strollers. cyclists. bikers. skate boarders. a dad teaching his kid to ride his bike bike. friends chatting. burners meandering. women running. people golfing. two cute older people on a tandem. a couple pulling their dogs in a kid carrier behind their bikes. a woman teaching her son to roller blade. and me and my boys, zipping through the fray. the variety of ethnicities are astounding if you aren’t used to it. its heartening. but what i couldnt quit thinking about as i peddled through, with the sun casting is low golden light on this scene in my life, is not only do i have my soundtrack. not only at that moment, in those moments, was my own soundtrack playing in my ear, but each of those people has their own soundtrack.
they have songs they think about when they think of lovers. of friends. of their children. or their parents. songs that make them smile. or well up. or peddle faster. or shake their ass. usually on one bike ride i can run through all of those things in a 30 minutes period.
since i sent my friend off with the soundtrack of our time together, this soundtrack of my life concept has reared its head in some interesting ways.
on monday i went to a concert. the first concert i’ve been to in a very long time actually. i used to go to a lot of shows. that was something chris and i did a lot of and enjoyed very much. i didnt make a conscience decision to not go to shows. i just simply havent really. so i agreed to go to this show with some girlfriends and on the heels of this special friend taking off, i had this girls trip to look forward to. and it was beautiful and sunny with big fat fluffy white clouds chasing us the whole way to Indy. The grass was green, the beer cold, the sky blue and the music washed over me like a blanket. and i’ll be damned if chris didnt just walk right up to me. 24,000 people and he walked up like nothing. so we watched part of the show like no time had passed, even tho it has, and went our separate ways. forever that band will be linked to that moment in time. its part of my soundtrack.
since that day, just a few days ago, random songs have popped up like they do, invoking thoughts and memories of other people who have crossed my path and left an imprint.
soundtracks.
if i was going to write out my life, from my earliest memory, to this moment, i think i could easily come up with a song for every year. if not several. some invoke such visceral responses it can make me dizzy with emotion.
i cant imagine my life any other way. i cant imagine it stagnant. its colorful and varied. its not like anyone elses. it definitely not boring. its sometimes full of sharp edges. and lots of letting go. but with letting go you have to open your hands and when you do, new things float into that empty space.
and all along the way, my soundtrack keeps expanding. and so does yours. and yours. and yours. if you’re doing it right. your soundtrack keeps expanding all along your road.
Beautiful. Your mommy lined the perimeter of your crib with LP covers and your parents sang you to sleep almost every night. Hope you stay on the musical road we shoved you down. It seems a good fit.
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