Framing the Sound

Category: Psychology

  • When Music Finds the Memory

    Why do memories flood my mind when I listen to a particular piece of music?

    I had never owned — or even heard — anything by Cigarettes After Sex until recently. For reasons still unbeknownst to me, I picked up their album Cry. Soon after the needle touched the wax, something unexpected happened.

    Memories of a seventeen-year-old kid — a boy who knew nothing about anything — began an invasion so powerful that before I even realized what was happening, I was in tears.

    Perhaps I’m more emo than I realize.

    I suppose 69¾ trips around the sun doesn’t necessarily mean we understand our emotions any better than we did after the first seventeen. Time adds years, not always clarity.

    As I continue restocking my vinyl library, I find myself drawn to new music by bands I know nothing about. Something nudges me toward a record I’ve never heard before. I bring it home, lower the needle… and suddenly flashbacks from as far back as the ’60s begin playing in my mind.

    Genre doesn’t seem to matter.

    About an hour ago I listened to Cold Blood by Lydia Pense. Within seconds, I was back in high school in Louisville and Greensburg, Kentucky — moving to funk and blues I had never actually heard before. I still have no idea where that record came from. It’s odd how music sometimes finds me without an invitation.

    The same thing happens with present-day artists.

    The first time I heard Alyssa Hankey sing and play County Seat, I was transported to around 1973 — the year I quit school and eloped. I had promised my girlfriend I would quit and get a job if she would marry me. Neither of us had the slightest idea what we were doing.

    But we did it anyway.

    We drove across the Kentucky–Tennessee border with two of our best friends as witnesses to see a justice of the peace. I did have a license.

    It was the love that wasn’t licensed.

    Music has a way of unlocking rooms in the house of memory we didn’t even know were still there. A chord, a voice, a rhythm — and suddenly the past is not past at all. It is present, breathing, and sometimes weeping.

    Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to both sound and image.

    A photograph can freeze a moment.

    A song can resurrect one.

    And somewhere between the needle and the shutter, I keep discovering that the heart remembers more than the mind ever could.

  • When things change

    Adaptability. If we can’t adapt, it’s almost certain that any significant change we may experience could end up causing a negative impact on our lives.

    Negativity. It could very well be the most harmful stimuli we impose on ourselves. We are hardwired for negativity, we feel it’s sting much more than positive praise.

    The past traumas of my childhood still linger to this day. I remember those experiences more than positive ones. It’s how my brain is wired, and probably how your’s is too.

    What can I do to prevent negativity from creeping in and possibly ruining my day? First, take a more mindful approach and realize that it’s there. Pay extra attention when good things happen. Take a few minutes to think on the good feelings from the experience. Do this several times.

    And try to always tell yourself that tomorrow will bring more wonderful feelings from all the good things that will happen. Having more positive feelings than negative ones gives you a positive outlook on life.

  • You Go First

    How many times have you either said that to someone, or been told that by someone? I bet more than once for each. Probably more times during your childhood. But as I’ve aged, that question has been randomly coming to mind.

    Many years ago my older brother asked me this existential question: if I could choose to die first so that I wouldn’t be here for all the mourning, or be second and feel the grief and suffering of my wife passing instead of her feeling that pain for me if I died first, would I choose to go first or second?

    Yes, that might seem to be a rather morbid question to ask, and I don’t remember (many years ago in this instance was probably 40+ or more) what my brother and I were discussing before he asked but it’s one of those hypotheticals that when you chew on it for a while really starts to have merit.

    There are those who face death bravely, not fearing what may or may not lie on the other side. They may not even know if there is another side. And there are many who may not have had the chance to look death in the eye before passing. And some know their end is near and joyfully accept it, expecting and knowing of a wondrous afterlife.

    I’ve been by myself at home for five days while my wife is away with our daughter. A destination wedding seems to be popular these days. During this time alone I’ve been thinking about my upcoming 69th trip around the sun. I’ve also had the “you go first or second” question pop up a time or two. I try to answer it, and tell myself there’s really no right or wrong answer.

    Going first seems to be a more selfless answer, knowing that my wife would get to enjoy a longer life. Heading that way second seems like a selfish decision. What about going first together? That’s another existential question that deserves merit I think.

  • Need vs. Want

    I’ve asked myself that question many times and it’s a tough one to answer. You’ve probably heard of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs:

    • Physiological needs – water, food, shelter, etc.
    • Safety needs – personal security, employment, health.
    • Love and Belonging – family, friends, intimacy.
    • Esteem – respect, self-esteem, status.
    • Self-actualization – the desire to be all you can be.

    It’s quite interesting that Maslow narrowed it down to five crucial needs, but when you look at each separately there’re many facets of what a need truly is. And each of us have many different kinds of needs that are individually important.

    I might need a new pair of shoes, but my old ones still fit regardless of the fact that one has a hole in the sole. You could say this isn’t really a need, it’s a want because no one can see the hole. The shoe still fits perfectly and if I avoid walking where there might be glass or other sharp objects, the shoe still does what a shoe does.

    Wants are far more subjective than needs which makes them harder to identify because they’re more personal to how we want to live and what living comfortably means. A new pair of shoes would make me feel better about myself because, well, they’re new and maybe more noticeable and folks might think I’m pretty hip because I’m wearing the latest style.

    On the other hand, my need for a new pair becomes a lot more relevant than wearing the latest style if I’m sitting at a restaurant, with my leg on top of my knee and the shoe with the hole in the sole is visible. I’m sure folks who notice would think to themselves “that fella needs a new pair of shoes.”

    I was discussing this need/want topic with my wife recently who’s thinking about purchasing a want. We’re both retired, and unfortunately haven’t met the “$1,000,000” figure often mentioned (as a need for retirement) by financial planners. I look for reasons to justify a want purchase by looking at our needs. Have all five been met?

    If you can answer yes, then I say go ahead with the want purchase. If you’re like us, you’ll have a common sense discussion and come to a mutual agreement. Or not. (I just thought I needed to add that little negaitve aspect whether I wanted to or not.)

    My new pair of barefoot shoes by Hike that I’ve wanted for some time but didn’t need.