The Power of Music

I enjoy taking a long walk. It’s a favorite exercise that helps oil my aging body machine. Outside the door the cerulean sky and wooded neighborhood is more appealing than a stationary bike facing a concrete wall. Keeping a brisk pace, thoughts float and swirl. Some make inspiring inroads into daily quandaries and upsets. Other thoughts are vague and ethereal and slip beyond my grasp. Sometimes it is refreshing to breathe in the clean air and not think at all. Then I sing instead.

Yet there are days a joyful song can become unwelcome noise. Last week, the instant I set sneaker on ground, lyrics from an old popular song pounded in my head. And it wouldn’t let go. Over and over came the single line, “For the great relief of having you to talk to.”

Why did it cling and refuse to leave? Because music has the strong ability to influence. It can lift our spirits to heavenly places. It can also sink us into the quicksand of depression. These jingles can fondly remind us of memories past or stifle us with such reminiscence, especially when repetition has burrowed these tunes deep in our memories.

Music can tap into a plethora of human emotions, bringing out the best or the worse in us. A particular song can ping notes moving us to charitable acts or unruly behavior. Many of us, men and women, young and older, have experienced this phenomenon. It is actually quite common although not the usual topic at the dinner table because we might break out in song.

These musical tangos have been named “brainworms” by the renowned neurologist, Oliver Sacks. In his book, Musicophilia, he noted that,"the brainworms arrive unbidden and leave only in their own time.” Maria Konnikova commented in the February 28, 2014 edition of the New Yorker, that “While there isn’t a strict definition of what constitutes an earworm, it is generally considered a constant loop of fifteen to twenty seconds of music lodged in your head for at least a few hours, if not days—or, in severe cases, months.”

Now that’s an earful. Perhaps I should rename them …cerebral gnats?

Lately I have wondered what to do about these incessant tunes. Perhaps I could ignore and replace them with my favorite pesto recipe over noodles, or read a thrilling book. I could open the front door and serenade the neighborhood. Not. Instead I could listen to these earworms. Just what am I telling myself? There may be a gem of wisdom or a life lesson learned. As I pondered the line, “for the great relief of having you to talk to,” from a group called the Lovin’ Spoonful, I realized I was appreciating working at home with my husband. Time we haven’t had since our honeymoon years ago. Now there is opportunity to figure in a lunch break, or a stroll around the block. Or a conversation during the day rather than when eyes and minds are too bleary.

Musical recall may not be so bad after all. For many of us there is comfort in repetition, like putting on a pair of worn jeans, or eating pizza every Friday night. Hearing invigorating tunes in our heads can encourage and inspire, rather than an ongoing negative script of angry self-talk. These melodies may actually serve to calm. So earworms can be annoying discos or lovely harmonies. You decide.

Ah. There it goes again. But this time I am hearing Louis Armstrong … “I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you. And I think to myself …”

Yes, what a wonderful world. Especially if we make it so.

… and that’s how I live it.