Music therapy.

Brian Crain’s “Song for Sienna” is a tune that moved me to tears the first time I heard it.

I think I was listening to a Pandora station when it came on, and whatever I was doing was immediately paused. It’s a simple composition that sounds full of hope and sorrow, triumph and loss, patience and resolve. I’m listening to it right now and it’s on repeat. If I sit too long without writing, my eyes will start to well up. I’m not fully sure why, but I’ve always been this way.

Rumor has it my mom and brother had to move me away from the TV whenever Sesame Street would come to an end, lest I dissolve into a puddle of tears when the chimes at the end would begin to play. I don’t remember the chimes, nor do I remember being relocated a safe distance away. I can’t even find any retro clip of Sesame Street to revisit said chimes. But it must be true, because beautiful music still does it to me — even the slightest swell of music in the background of a movie can cast a spell (precisely what’s intended, I’m sure).

I’ve often wondered what my response means. To pursue or not to pursue as a career? I toyed with the idea of majoring in music during college, but decided that it would’ve taken the fun out of something so incredibly sacred to me that it wasn’t worth the risk. To dabble in on the side? I’ve done that and still do it in the comfort of my home, and while it’s personally satisfying, I can’t say I don’t want it to be more than that. What exactly — I’m not sure. Maybe in the same way that I’m considering the self-publishing path for my writing, I’ll record a CD someday just to say I did it. Nothing wrong with that.

In the meantime, I am thankful for others’ compositions and offerings which are inspiring, as well as encourage introspection and dreams. If music doesn’t cause those things for others, I can only hope that something else in life stirs up the same emotions. Riding the wave of highs and lows, listening and thinking, wishing, praying, hoping and remembering — all the things that music causes me to do — is nothing short of exhausting at times, but it’s therapy at its finest in my opinion.

For music as my therapy, I am thankful.

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