Updated: Mar 1, 2019
Right. Why get hopelessly attached to the whole process of thinking it, feeling it, writing it, producing it, and recording it? Then wanting to share it, compare it, to wear it, pray about it, and hope for approval from somewhere for it. At the end of the day, it’s simply the way I’m made.
I guess it’s not any different, really, then any other addiction. It all strikes a part deep inside at our core and works its way up and out till it manifests in some tangible form for others to hear and experience. It always means more at the place where it gets imagined or discovered than when it emerges with skin on it. That reminds me of a passage in Proverbs 14:10. “The heart knows its own bitterness, and no stranger shares its joy.” ESV.
Anyway, everyone gets touched by music at some level. Maybe as just a sound to break the silence, or a release point for an emotional moment. But for me, it fights me to become an identity or an overwhelming attraction that grabs me by my face so I’ll look intensely at it. My family will attest to the fact that I’m constantly singing the things they say back as part of some song it brings to mind. How annoying is that? Right up there with making them laugh with their mouths full.
Then, when you add to it the fact that music can be what we give to God to demonstrate our devotion, dependence, our gratitude in a personal one-on-one relationship, and our worship of the ultimate divine being, it can get overwhelming all over again. It’s like taking all that is me, wrapping it up in a heap and saying to God, “This me and all I am, take it and do what you want”. Such a point of abandonment is a rare thing and usually isn’t healthy for human relationships.
So, it’s a compulsion. And a very widespread condition all over the world. Hopefully, we can share the “tar baby” and commiserate or support the whole experience and all of its parts together in the days ahead. Like learning to sail, be it a river or an ocean.