Yesterday I gave this definition of music: an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions in significant forms through the elements of rhythm, melody, harmony, and color.
Since I started on the path of learning to be and presenting myself as a spiritual guide, I have carefully chosen the music I listen to or play. My daughter, Laurie, entered my life at about the same time that I began this path. In good conscience I made choices that surrounded Laurie with music that uplifted her, inspired her and brought her joy and harmony.
Educationally I recently watched the Ken Burns Country Music Specials on WETA a Public Broadcasting Station here in the Washington DC area. The historical aspects I found fascinating. There was so much to learn about the transition of country music through the 100 years the series covered. However, by the sixth episode I realized that I was getting depressed from all of the drama trauma of the lyrics and the lives of many of the stars. Night after night, six in a row, I heard these sweeping sad tones and “God-awful” lyrics about desertion, poverty, heartache, being lonesome, etc.
After realizing that I had become depressed by watching these specials I remembered why I do not like most country music. The ballads tell stories—and almost never cheery ones or heroic ones that end happily. I can do without others’ drama traumas in my life.
Fact: Hank Williams had an anthem. It was “I’m so lonesome I could die.” He died at age 29. Do I dare say that those lyrics repeated daily for years undoubtedly helped “do him in?”
Personally I don’t need that or any similar drama traumas to do me in.