music to my ears

The power of music lies in its ability to transport us to a specific moment in time or infuse us with the unique atmosphere evoked by a particular person. I was years behind the charm of Kasey Musgraves’ voice and her heartfelt lyrics.

I remember writing in my journal when I first heard Kacey’s album “Golden Hour” – April 2020 – I wrote not only about the state of the world but also the inexplicable emotions I felt for this woman who showed up in my life out of the blue. Quite literally, my first glance of my ex-partner was boarding a flight to LA on New Year’s Eve, 2019. I was able to pinpoint this feeling to Kacey’s words in “Butterflies” and specifically the lyrics shown above.

A childlike joy would overtake me during the early stages of getting to know my ex-partner. Time seemed to stand still when I was around her, and her smile gave me butterflies. Every, damn time. The world felt like it was ending, but mine was engulfed in love, lust, and ecstasy. We were flying above the rest of the world.

Fast forward two and a half years, and my ex-partner and I found ourselves among thousands of fans at Austin City Limits as Spacey Kacey performed ‘Butterflies’ and her numerous other hits. In that moment, it was as if we were the only two in the crowd and she was singing to only us. A dream come true.

Fast forward another six months, and I handed my ex-partner the keys to our apartment, bidding our farewells outside Redheaded Stranger in East Nashville (a fantastic spot, by the way). That day I said goodbye to Kasey Musgraves as well. Until now.

It’s alluring how, when you’re in a relationship, there are experiences, places, songs, shows, movies, and countless other nouns that forever fall within the umbrella of your relationship. A stance I had taken was that when a relationship ends, so does your relationship with almost all else under said umbrella.

I was in Montreal for a bachelor party this summer. We were jammin’ out to late night, in our feels tunes, and my friend Eddie put on Kasey Musgraves. A few chords into the song, I asked him to turn it off. Kasey Musgraves was on my ‘do not play’ list.

I’ve replayed that feeling I had in Montreal a few times since. And now my sentiments have evolved. Just because a relationship ends, it doesn’t mean we lose everything else that contributed to the relationship’s beauty. That’s not fair to me. I already lost the person, and that’s hard enough to live with.

Writing this now, I realize that was just another way of suppressing my emotions about the relationship, but at the time I wasn’t strong enough to handle it any other way. Suppress and move on was my default mode.

Mt. Joy was another musical group that consistently provided the soundtrack to my previous relationship. The group’s show at the Greek in 2021 was our first concert together. Their catchy tune ‘Astrovan’ was the first song we played during our cross-country roadtrip. In a way the band was following our move, as their show in Nashville was our first memory in the Music City. All in all, we saw four Mt. Joy shows together and had multiple concert posters hung up in our apartment. The band was so strongly correlated to our union, that neither one of us kept the art work when we moved out.

Last month, I had an opportunity to add a fifth show to my count. Mt. Joy was playing in my hometown, and my friends Eddie (the same Ed!) and Charlie were both interested in going. My first instinct was “No, no I can’t see Mt. Joy anymore.” A feeling came up inside of me right after that thought. My inner voice quickly refuted the previous statement and said,

”Yes you can. You’ve grown so much between now and that night in Montreal. You were afraid of the open water – fear conquered by scuba-diving and surfing. You’re afraid of heights too – that fear has reduced since the Inca Trail. You’re stronger than who you were yesterday.”

So I said yes. There were waves of melancholy that night. My mind would drift off to memories of concerts with her. Sure, that was fair to expect. I’ve come to accept those feelings rather than fight them. I took them for what they were in that moment and let them go as they were. I’d take a deep breath, look over at my friends jammin’ away, and take a mental note of a new picture on the camera roll.

I remember smiling as I left the show. I once again faced something from my past and emerged even stronger. Preferring the comfort of the known and sidestepping scenarios that elicit discomfort or chaos can seem like the simplest course of action.

It’s akin to the moments following a challenging run, particularly after conquering that final stretch. You come to the realization that your inner strength surpasses your initial expectations when you first tied your shoelaces, and the last leg of your run was more manageable than you anticipated. Or in this case, scanning my ticket to the show, coming up to the surface after a dive, or rippin’ that first wave. Not as bad as what I played out in my imagination. As Seneca once said,

Facing fears, growth, and letting go have filled my mind as of late. I’ll take that any day over the loneliness, confusion, and depression that occupied much of the real estate in my brain during this year.

In Chicago this past weekend, I was having a conversation with my dearest friend, who’s more like a brother at this point. He gave me this look he always does when he’s about to tell me something he doesn’t think I want to hear. All he said was, “it’s time”.

Essentially, he was giving me the nudge that I didn’t know I needed. There’s no formula that provides an exact date or time for when you’re ‘over’ a relationship. Time heals all wounds, but that ‘time’ is 100% dependent on the person, that current person they are getting over, and the other experiences prior to that one. I’m unsure when my exact date/time will come, but I’ve been doing the internal work and will keep striving to rebuild my identity and life.

I mention this here because I’ve talked extensively about the past, which has been therapeutic as I’ve navigated the stages of grief. Writing here and connecting with many of you offline has been instrumental in my healing journey. I’m sure there will be times when the past will resurface. However, I will continue to write here as I transition my energy into what’s next and the person I’m evolving into.

My current mantra during this evolution:

What’s next? A one-way ticket to India in December.

I hope you will follow the energy with me.