When it was my Dad’s weekend when I was younger, we would always find time to go to the movies. We would go eat Mexican food, go into the dumpy Middlesboro mall into the Dollar Tree, buy cheap snacks, then go into the theater with all of our goods stuffed into Dad’s pockets.
During the movie, I am invested totally in this fictitious story. What they feel, I instantly feel. If it’s a family comedy, I am feeling gratitude and care for my family. If it’s a love story, I’m either missing a guy or wishing I had one near me. Songs in the background play and help these fake scenes seem more realistic and dramatic. These feelings allow me to escape reality, only for just a little while.
And when the movie ends, you have that pleased, content, and warm feeling. You are tired, but in the best way. Regardless if the movie was good or bad, you absorbed it and are now basking in the vibes it gave off. You are thinking about whatever the movie made you miss, hate, love, or think about in general.
The other day I read somewhere in this brain book that listening to Mozart improves cognitive function in the brain. Hell, why not. I’ll give it a go. I feel dumber than a sack of rocks, so…… Anything helps.
I pick out some random classical music album on Spotify and hit shuffle. I listen.
Surprisingly, I am enjoying it. I had never really listened to this much before, only as a joke to make my ex boyfriend give me the, “absolutely NOT” look in the car. I am relaxed. Focused yet unfocused.
I start to listen to Mozart a lot more. In the car, while I’m at home, or when I’m cleaning. I don’t feel any smarter, but I feel… different.
I suddenly recognize my feeling as nostalgia.
Classical music makes me feel the same way movies do. I had always heard it in the background. So it calms me.
It makes me reminisce on memories with my Dad. Times that were much more simple.
I am and have always been pretty realistic. Even growing up, I never played pretend games that couldn’t actually exist in the real world. I played teacher, banker, chef, etc.
Sometimes, I don’t like to be realistic about my life. Because my mind is racing 100 miles per hour, every second of every day. I am constantly thinking about my failures, my stresses, my future and my past. Skimming over details that no longer matter, or diving deep into future scenarios so that I know what to do when and if they happen. I am cursing myself because of stupid things I’ve done, and what situations I put myself in. My head aches, my body lowers, and I am unmotivated 60% of the time.
So I watch movies and I listen to this music. My brain drifts away from all the buzzing and racing in my head, and it focuses on good things.
I need this. This small, little window of time where I can stop facing what is loosening all of my strings.
I wake up, but I feel as though I am not alive. I let Gracie out, and I look up at the sky and feel nothing. I breathe in the humid, summer air and sigh deeply. I hear the loud crickets — the kind I always heard back home in Tennessee — and I try to feel better, but I can’t. I don’t know what to feel, or how to feel. I am lost.
I have not found what I am looking for. I know my problems, but I do not know how to deal with them correctly.
But I can escape.
Just for a little while…