Last night I geeked out watching part of "Music Instinct (Science and Song)" on PBS.
For anyone who performs, writes, plays, listens to or likes music, or for those who are interested in the wonder of the human brain, it may be fascinating and insightful. Information about the wiring of neurons, cross-cultural recognition of musical "meaning," the progress made in studying the brain, etc.
I got into bed next to my son, Max, after watching the show, and took his hand. Immediately I was filled with a memory of sleeping with him when he was hours old... when I laid him down beside me atop my outstretched arm only to wake to find him nestled, primally, in the crook of my neck. I barely had time to wonder at the tears that memory brought when a piggy-backing memory created an overlay. It was a memory of time spent with someone for whom I felt deep love. More tears filled my eyes. Right away, my mind wanted to understand the connection. How had the memory of laying with my newborn son triggered or been accompanied by the memory of moments from that relationship?
Having just watched the PBS program on music and the brain, what I came up with was that the memories were residing in the same place in my grey matter - a place that involved the complexities of deep love, hope, promise and, ultimately, the loss of physically enjoying those particular moments. Some call this feeling that the memories evoked the "beautiful sadness," I believe. Again, I wonder if all those moments reside in the same place in the brain - a place that appreciates the beauty of deep connection, the promise of what may come, and the shift into something other. The combination of elements is what's essential, I believe: the love AND the loss; the connected moment(s) AND the shift. I
know that I tap into these "beautiful sadness" memories often when writing music. I'm no sadist, but in some ways I'm as appreciative for the loss as I am for the initial wonder of love and the promise held. I think what may distinguish people is where they go from there - to refraining from creating those moments again because the loss is too painful, to dipping one's toes in to test the waters again, to diving back in and actively searching out those moments. (Or maybe to just eating chocolate! :-)
What my tears told me, last night, was that those moments of deep love and connection will continue to move me - both emotionally and psychically - to my core, the essential "me." I welcome more of them with open arms and heart!