When Was It That the Music Faded for You?
Allowing ourselves space to be still, to be silent, to take deep breaths, to recite a personal mantra is valuable and pushes us into a state of being present, in the here and now, as opposed to living in the past or obsessing about the future. And the present is where the music lies.
Music has long been my greatest passion, whether it’s playing instruments and singing with friends, spinning vinyl on my turntable at home, listening to some killer playlists through my headphones, or seeing bands play in a live music setting. It’s all fuel in my veins, and I’m entirely hooked.
Even though I may be hooked on music, I’ve noticed, as I’ve gotten older, that it’s gotten more and more difficult to engage with things that I have historically been known to love.
Have you experienced this?
There are things or practices that you’ve been head over heels for, you’ve been hooked, but as time ticks on it’s gotten harder to make space for these things or these practices.
Even when you intentionally carve out some time, it’s taken intentional action to be present and willing to engage your focus and energy with this thing or this activity that used to almost unconsciously sweep you off of your feet in this wave of fun, pleasure, and joy.
I’ve experienced this with music. I tend to say that music has been my one enduring passion throughout my life.
Although music is still my obsession, there have been periods where it’s been difficult to tap into that passion.
I haven’t felt moved or inspired by it. It has at times become more of a to-do list for myself, a task of ticking off a box of having listened to a record that was in my queue for a while.
I’ve found it to be merely another noise in my already noisy and hectic brain.
If you haven’t yet experienced this sensation of loss of joy over what used to inspire you and motivate you then maybe this post is not for you.
Or maybe in the years to come you will notice some of these symptoms finding you and you will then know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s not something that I necessarily would wish on someone, but I know that there are a lot of folks out there who have experienced this.
I feel a sense of belonging and solidarity knowing that there are others out there who have experienced this same phenomenon.
Why Can’t I Hear the Music? I Feel So Numb
This phenomenon, this lessening of interest and passion for what we’ve been known to enjoy in the past, is thought to be a symptom of struggling mental health.
According to WebMD, this phenomenon is called Anhedonia. It is “the inability to feel pleasure. It's a common symptom of depression as well as other mental health disorders.” [1]
Now, for the sake of this article, I don’t want to go down a rabbit hole of medical and psychological jargon.
And I certainly don’t want to be giving out any sort of medical advice. I merely want to address some damaging habits that our society has and I want to offer some helpful guidance for moving through these struggles.
Who Turned OFF The Music? What Causes This Phenomenon?
I feel like when I truly fell in love with music it was in the most ideal of conditions. I was a young teen living in a rural area surrounded by fields. The silence at night was staggering.
The cool breeze mixed with the fresh air and the smell of wisteria was the perfect backdrop for whatever music (probably Copeland or Eisley) was flooding through my headphones as I sat on my rooftop as often as I got the chance.
Granted, I was in my early to mid-teens and was easily thrown into states of high emotionality. Regardless, these conditions were entirely conducive to a state of mindfulness and openness to music.
We’re living in a fast-paced world and there is always something waiting to catch our attention and hold on for as long as possible. Especially if you’re living in a bustling urban metro area, sensory overload is a daily reality. There’s noise everywhere - people chatting around you, dogs barking in the next-door neighbor’s apartment, cars honking, the steady hum of the nearby highways. Collectively, it forms its own unique orchestra.
Allowing ourselves space to be still, to be silent, to take deep breaths, to recite a personal mantra is valuable and pushes us into a state of being present, in the here and now, as opposed to living in the past or obsessing about the future. And the present is where the music lies.
In her article “The Importance of Stillness: Why It’s Imperative to Make Time to Do Nothing,” Emma Lennon writes “Creativity comes into play when we allow the mind to be quiet so fresh ideas arise to fill the space. This explains why we often have our best ideas when in the shower, stuck in traffic, or waiting in line at the grocery store.” [2]
When we’re intentional about being still, giving our mind a bit of a reset, it opens up the gate for us to tap into our creative process and also to appreciate the creative process of others - enjoying music.
Know When to Turn the Music Off
Through COVID-19 I had a difficult time being invested in music. It felt like a compulsive chore as opposed to pure pleasure and wonder.
Through a lengthy unemployment period, several job changes to follow, a fearful obsession with my future, and a lack of discipline in stillness, I found that when listening to music it didn’t sound good to me.
Nothing was grabbing me and shaking me up inside, which has historically been what music does for me. It stirs me.
Instead, it became a compulsive practice - to listen to music when I had free time, to make sure that I was getting around to records that I added to my Apple Music library, or to make sure I was spinning records I had bought at my local vinyl store.
Over time it became clear to me that I needed silence. I needed to make a point to NOT do what was generally a given thing for me to be doing in my free time.
I initially felt afraid of experiencing this phenomenon, these symptoms of anhedonia. I was scared that my love for music was slipping away and that I wouldn’t have that anymore.
Although, at this point now, being in a healthier mental state, I know that I would survive if my passion for music did wane and shift.
We’re evolving beings. We pivot and adapt. I will say that I’m grateful that my obsession with music has not waned; I’ve merely had to incorporate moments of silence into the regimen as well.
According to Vijay Eswaran, writing for the Harvard Business Review, “Being silent allows us to channel our energies. It gives us the clarity we need to calmly face challenges and uncertainty.” [3]
When I allow myself time to be still and silent, my fear and anxieties are diminished. They are brought down to bite-size concerns. I see things rationally as opposed to seeing things through the lens of worry.
Instead of constant disasters, I can view my struggles as manageable problems that can be solved.
My recommendation would be to know when to turn off the music. I’m not saying you need to burn your headphones and stop going to concerts.
It’s about taking inventory of where you’re at in the current moment. Are you in a place where you WANT to listen to music, where you appreciate what you’re listening to? Or are you noticing that your mind is racing, your body is tense, and your thoughts are jumbled and irrational?
It could be a good time to sit down, make yourself comfortable, and be silent. Find a place where you feel at ease.
It’s Worth It…For You and for the Sake of Music
Music is a tool
It’s an avenue for creating something bigger than ourselves. At its greatest moments, it brings people together and teaches unity.
Allowing yourself to be still, to even take a break from music for a time, allows the dissonance inside you to slow to a hush and for you to experience unity within yourself and with those around you. Give it a try.
