Living In Relative Dissonance: An Ode To Creativity.
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Our chords of understanding vary like the notes of the guitar — contrasting, maybe awkward, perhaps completely opposing, but beautiful all the same.
Your mind may tend towards the what-ifs and the could-haves, you may think less about the sensible and more about the senseless.
Maybe you too have been ridiculed by your mom for thinking too much, not being productive enough, or being too vague, too irrational.
Maybe she also wishes that you could be more like your friend Katrina: plain, simple, responsible.
You too may wonder about the thoughts of others as they pass by, carrying on thoughtlessly with their dutiful lives.
You too may wonder what inspires those people to do the curious things they do.
Maybe you have also wondered how the very details of your life could be different if you would have done this, not that.
I often thought that my life would be contrastingly different if I would have pursued the piano, singing, maybe the guitar. Much like many believe that vast change would be achieved if their hair, breasts, weight, or nose were different.
Maybe my life would be more meaningful if I had any musical talent at all.
Perhaps such a talent would have provided me with consistent comfort, a comfort that can only be derived from doing precisely what is meant for you. The music serving as a lullaby in all times, causing my life to play ever peacefully.
I would have been humbled by the presence of those who share this love. To bond with fellow artists in a way that anyone who couldn’t play, wouldn’t.
I might have played my mother a song of encouragement on her weaker days.
On my weakest days, I would have sought refuge in a guitar rather than horrendous substances.
I may have comforted others in a way that is beyond the power of words.
I may have played you a sentimental tune — in remorse for all that you have lost, while you were focusing on the right feelings for the wrong person.
This song would not come from a place of hurt, but from a place of wonder. As I wonder why you do not see in yourself what I see so deeply in you.
Maybe I would have returned the favor of my first boyfriend, written him a song too, and maybe he wouldn’t have ended it, maybe I would’ve never been hurt.
In the past, perhaps around age 12, when I was innocent and impressionable, I would have formed my identity through song. And the chords I struck then could have given birth to a new me.
Every sound would have brought forth a new tune — the steady humming of the refrigerator, the periodic clink of the furnace, and the whirring of the traffic.
Maybe it would all sound anything but mundane to me, maybe it would sound like music. Maybe it would sound like inspiration, much like the sound of the keyboard does to me now.
Maybe it would have struck within me a harmony within myself. Causing the trials and errors of my ways to appear more trivial, less detrimental, providing a soothing melody to my self-doubt.
Maybe I would have been bound so deeply to the passion of the notes that I wouldn’t have known as much pain.
Maybe this is what it’s like to immerse your life in music. Maybe this is just a mere idea of what it feels like to follow your heart. Maybe a reflection of an inner longing for the comfort within a harmonious melody.
Maybe it is an ode to creativity itself…
… or maybe this is simply the product of an overactive mind.
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Brooke Turcato is currently an English student at Mount Royal University, Calgary. She believes in fairies and nymphs alike, and is highly inspired by travel, crystals, and Yoga. She is an aspiring writer and avid dreamer. She likes frequent trips to the mountains, and will never tire of watching Charmed. She finds comfort in her words, and her joy in expressing them. She hopes to reach fellow truth-seekers and believers through sharing bits of her own experience.
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