Life's Duet

It’s been 10 years since I played music.

I played piano growing up. It gave me power. It gave me feeling. I could create with the stroke of a finger. The sound shook the walls, vibrating the colors, lifting them from their isolation to sing and dance with my song.

However, as time pushed me into reality, I stepped away from the piano. With the walls still echoing my song, fear entered the room and started to play. Its skeleton fingers soundlessly strummed the piano's keys and eclipsed the space. With each stroke, I slipped further away. Stuck in a colorless space. Lost in a melody of soundless misery.

Years passed. My career flourished. My paycheck increased. My status rose. Yet, the silence continued. Fear still played its melody.

Occasionally, I would look at my captor. It would turn and ominously grin, knowing it had me like a Siren at sea. And day after day, the silence grew louder and louder. Memories of my song faded. Every note that it played pushed away color, pushed away the life I had given away.

Like time, the music never really stops. You either play your own song, or you listen to another.

I fell in love. Yet, the silence still played. The piano was still out of reach. Occupied by the other.

I pushed myself away. I pushed her away. For what? To prove my worth. To overcome the lies I believed. That I wouldn’t make it. That I wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t smart enough.

I proved them.

My status stopped their insults. Yet, I had lost feeling. I had lost myself.

Thank God for therapy. Thank God for music.

I ran away from both because it forced me to feel. Forced me to know who I was. To remember the pain I had suffered. The joy I had lost. The love I had thrown away.

“All Eyes on Me” by Bo Burnam planted the seed. My eyes began to shimmer. My mind became aware of the room. My song. The presence was known. Fear was still playing the piano. It had complete control. In my first moment of awareness, I became overwhelmed with the fear in my soul.

I ran away...again. I ran away from that feeling, the shadow on the wall, the dark silhouette, the demon in the room. I couldn't face it. And I leapt into the thorny embrace of work, believing that salvation would come from wealth. That escape was financial freedom. That hope was a vacation house by the beach.

Years passed. In my ignorance, the silence grew and consumed everything that was left. A pressure in my head, a tension in my ribs, a burning in my stomach. My muscles withered away. I had lost 20 pounds.

I would be dead if I did nothing.

But that song...that song haunted me. Kept me awake. I didn’t know why until the one I love forced me to look inside. She was unwilling to watch my decay, and forced my hand..."either face it, or I'm going away."

I fought. I found myself in the room. I took my place on the bench and started to play.

After 10 years, the silence was met with sound. Notes breaking, hands stumbling over the keys, I filled the room with my ugly, horrible song.

Nine sessions. Nine hours of prying, discovering trauma I had hidden. I filled that room with the only song I could play, the horror I remembered.

Fear didn't stop its soundless song. Yet, I continued to play. And together, we entered into a harmony. A new song that would overcome the past. The chorus rose. The room filled with color. And I found my song. But it was different than I remembered. It was profound, yet hauntingly simple. In the notes, the echoing chords, I could feel. I felt love, loss, joy, and pain.

Fear didn't run away. It put its hand down and listened to me play.

I started listening to others and their songs, seeking inspiration for each note, each lyric that would keep me playing through it all.

“Burn. Burn. Burn.” by Zach Bryan allowed me to let go. To accept the pain. To accept my place in this dark, beautiful place.

“Cosmic Love” by Florence + the Machine helped me rediscover the love around me. The power within me. The love in everything. The joy I’m missing. The reason I write. A purpose in life.

"Oceans" by Hillsong connected me with God, who helped me face the fear of my past. He lifted me above the waters, the chaos of this life, and revealed that I am not alone. He is with me while the oceans rise and fall.

“Outro” by M83 is the song I will feel, the song I will know when I am on the other side. I am still fighting, still playing my song. The color is filling the room, yet fear is eager to play. I must continue until the very end so that the colors never fade.

Play. For it is only the courageous that bring sound to a quiet place.

Find your song. Share it with others. Because when that day comes, when it finally ends, you will have inspired another to begin.