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Friday, 21 June 2013

An Instrumental Year

Remember when Facebook, circa two years ago, pre-timeline displayed the status you had uploaded on the exact same day one year earlier? I loved this function! I’d always find myself having *handoverface* or *giggletomyself* moments at life’s ironic sense of humour as I typed my current rants in juxtaposition to the ones I had so valiantly shared only 365 days earlier.

Present day Carly would be typing something to the effect of: “Listening to The Cranberries – windows down, music up!” And just a few pixels to the left, Facebook tells me I had written: “Listening to Bob Marley under the stars… perfect!” the year before. Present day Carly would be writing “Writing my latest article for O mag and loving my new Carrie Bradshaw’esque life…” while only a few moons earlier I had written “Behind every great actress, is a trail of empty red bull cans.”

It just is so incredible how much can happen in what looks to me now, like an itsy bitsy blip on our real-life timelines. Hearts can break and get glued back together. Fashion faux pas becomes fashion forward making the most unlikely of items take up residence all over your wardrobe. Songs grow on you. Friends grow around you, and sometimes behind you. The ice caps melt a little more. The trees change colour and your hair changes colour twice. Perspective can shift as sharply as that damn petrol price.

As much as I’d like to say I’ve always embraced and danced through each sunrise and sunset of new beginnings – it’s a fat ass lie. I do, as you know all too well, suffer from a curious condition called the overthinks. A nasty ailment that unlike most people, doesn’t only strike me on long car trips spent staring out of a window at passing landscapes to the sound of a Coldplay piano bridge. It sort of hangs out in my subconscious and has a beer until things get still, and then BAM: What are you doing with your life? Why does it feel like everyone else knows and you don’t? When are you going to be a grown up? Maybe you’re not the marrying kind… maybe you are destined to be a career woman with a baron womb.” It’s usually then that I slam on breaks to avoid rearing into the car in front of me. Damn you overthinks. *Turns up the volume*

The other day I found myself listening to U2’s Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own - a song that truly moves me… because it’s beautiful and has amazing lyrics but also because of that emotionally transcending musical bridge. I closed my eyes for a second and let the rhythmic build-up, the subtle chimes and the humming innuendo just take me. I found myself floating in layers of relativity, the kind that make you feel like Bono literally read your diary and then constructed a monumental chord progression to say all the things you wish you could articulate but can’t. And then just like that brilliant moment of suspending silence that often comes just before a poignant last verse, I realized something.

What if the pastures of time that we spend hanging just a moment above certainty are really our truly magnificent musical interludes? What if our lives instrumentals are really instrumental catalysts for our greatest choices? That “hmm” we have, when we are pausing to see if we’ll choose path A or path G. The thirty seconds of Coldplays’ Clocks where we feel still but our hearts are pounding and urging us to move forward. The ACDC guitar solo that lets our inner voice scream out “Fuck you - I’ll do what I want!” Or when the beat drops in Kaskades’ Room for Happiness and the goose bumps on our skin tell us there may just be an explosion of possibility around the next corner.

Standing on the brink of my next verse I’ve decided to rewrite the title of my tune from One Year of Uncertainty to Floating above a Universe of Prospect and to see it as an exploratory instrumental, gently preparing me for an unforgettable refrain.  

Maybe that’s why they call it a bridge. Maybe it’s just a connecting platform, taking us from point old to point new in melodic resonance.

In the words of The Cranberries after a grand musical break away:

All my life
Is changing every day
In every possible way

All my dreams
They'll come true
Impossible not to do

1 comment:

  1. Now if we can just hold that thought and not think past and into it >>> beautiful