I am listening to some tunes gifted as a belated birthday present. I am thankful to listen to another musician and to learn from them. I am enjoying the artist’s unique voice. Mostly, I am excited to hear different strumming patterns.
Malcolm Brooks, my research partner and friend who taught me the Story-to-Song method these past few years, changed my life with a strum. It was a strum and a slap. I learned it to the tune of “The lion sleeps tonight.” Life would never be the same. My ukulele had become a rhythm instrument.
I have loved the strum and slap groove. Yet nearly two years later, I am feeling a bit like a broken record. I know that each song I write from a story cannot possibly fit neatly into a strum and slap groove. Yet, I seem to keep falling back on it.
It is easy fall into a rhythm in life as well as music.
I recently graduated from a four-year doctoral program. For four years, I had the identity of being students. Now, I am a doctor. But what does that mean? Does i
t mean I will do great things?
What is next?
His friend responded, “I hope it is not for 40 years.”Malcolm told me that he has felt a similar unease in this time of transition. In recent conversation with a friend, he said, “I feel like I have escaped from Egypt but I am now wandering in the wilderness.”
For me, it is not enough to wonder. I want to make things happen. I am alive and full when a song is born through me. When I perform, I fly.
I am not yet certain what is next, but I know that it will involve music.