A case for sad songs...

Lately I have been noticing that I will listen to sad songs for no reason at all.  Not just one sad song, but several in a row.  I've always understood why sad songs were alluring when I was feeling down, had a hard day, or was nursing a recent heart-wound.  Recently, though, I've begun to wonder why, when none of these situations are the case, do I still turn to the down-beat, sappy lyrics that fill so many a sad song?  What is the draw?  The more I sat with the question the more I turned to my body for the answer.  How did these songs make me feel in my own skin?  What sensations did I notice? It all came down to one word: heart.

When I listen to sad songs, I feel my heart.  Sometimes it stirs memories of past heart-ache, longing, regrets, but more often--it creates room for me to feel inside that soft, amazing part of my chest where the organ that pumps life into my veins exists--my heart.

Music, I have often felt, is medicine.  It can lift us up, invigorate us and even stir things to the surface that need to be felt.  It can even give us strength in weak moments.  I think sad songs in particular cause introspection.  The melody, tempo and lyrics all contribute to a state of being that allows for one to tap into her very core.  Sometimes this may be why we avoid sad songs--it's not always pleasant, or welcome, to feel into that tender-hearted place.  However, I have discovered, as one woman put it, "the superpower of vulnerability."  This is true in relationships, yes, but also with oneself.   I recently read in Geneen Roth's book, Women, Food and God that unless we begin a feeling, it (the feeling) will never end--so avoiding sadness does not serve us, in fact, it prolongs the pain of it.  I would even argue that it's good to "set the mood for sadness" and listen to a sappy, oh-so-sad, song.  It allows us to feel what may not have been okay to feel at other times.

I have many Reiki clients that are on what I would call the "threshold" of sadness. It's there, it needs to be felt, it's bubbling to the surface....but it's freaking scary to feel! So, what does one do when that is the case? Well, a wise soul once suggested to me that I listen to sad music to tap into sadness I was not, until that time, ready to feel.  Just a song.  Just one song.  To wallow in the melody and the feeling it created in my body.  To sob...to thrash a bit.  And I will tell you that by just placing my toe in the seemingly never ending ocean of melancholy, I started to heal what was causing that pain in the first place.

With just one song.

So now, even when I'm not really "down" (and I definitely have my moments of sadness, too) I will listen to a few sad songs.  I'll pay attention to how my heart responds--and if I want to, I will cry.  Crying is such a gift and one we often want to ignore or avoid, but it's a necessary release.  It moves energy--allowing us more space for the stuff we want in our lives. And it heals. A lot.

So...listen to a sad song, or two.  Light some candles or incense, lower the lights....drop into your body.  Feel whatever shows up--knowing that it's just for this one song (or more if you like).

Don't forget the tissue.


Suggested listening:

Catalyst --Anna Nalick
Warm Whispers ---Missy Higgens
Heal Over --KT Tunstall
You Could Be Happy --Snow Patrol
Everybody Hurts ---REM
Grey Room --Damien Rice
Gravity --Sara Bareilles

"Silence is an ocean. Speech is a river." ~ Rumi

I've been coming across this thought a great deal lately.  We find ourselves in a world that is constantly conversating.  My younger brother was over at my home earlier this week, and I noticed, with some annoyance, that he could not seem to put down his phone for longer than a few moments.  Texting, checking, e-mail, etc. ad nauseum all the while having a "conversation" with me.  I will admit that in a counter-play I went over to my computer and started checking my email. Ha--two can play at that game! Touche?  Not really--now I wasn't fully present either.

As siblings, he and I are a bit more lax about how we interact; however, this situation is a good example of how most of us are in the world all the time.  Plugged in--energetically outsourced as it were.  Well, what about sourcing ourselves?  How about a bit more space?  Some energetic breathing room? As my meditation teacher often talks about in class, spaciousness is where creation begins.

I get that we have to communicate.  In fact, sociology tells us that our language is what separates us from other animals.  It allows us to connect, deeply--to share our experiences on levels that would not be possible otherwise.  It enhances this experience--this human experience; however, when is it too much?
A friend of mine and I were discussing this very thing.  I expressed how the need to be connected all the time (e-mail, phone, FB, etc) was in-fact draining me.  She encouraged me to set more boundaries around my communication; a practice that has been a struggle for me when I have tried it in the past.  Partially because there is a fear that by disconnecting or "un-plugging" I will somehow miss out on something or will be needed and not be there for someone (family, friends, etc.).  The fact that resistance shows up so much for me in this arena was a clue that it needed to be addressed.  So, I experimented.

For once in probably months, when I got home from work I turned my ringer off, refused to open my computer.  I relaxed.  I breathed.  I sank into some space.  I unwound.  I flipped through a magazine or two that have been collecting dust.  I even watched a little t.v. (Daily Show anyone?). Eventually I did call a friend,  and I have to say, it was one of the most healing conversations I have had in a long time.  That was a gift.

So, I think, it's not about NOT communicating, but perhaps, about being more selective with our communication, and more importantly opening up space in our life to just "be."  I often use the analogy with my Reiki clients about how we are like cups of water.  If we are already "full"  then how can anything else get in? --like the good stuff we want to call into our lives?  A full cup of water, even if you try to pour more water into it, can't hold anymore.  It needs some room!  So...give yourself some room.  Set aside some time to disconnect from everyone else and re-connect with yourself.  Allow emptiness. Turn off your phone, turn off the music, turn off the t.v.  Just be still. See what can happen.

"Stop the words now.  

Open the window in the center of your chest, 

And let the spirits fly in and out." ~Rumi