“Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing;
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: “Thou single wilt prove none.”
~ William Shakespeare
I love music. I always have, and I likely always will. Doesn’t matter what it is to me, i just love to hear the voice lifted up in song. I grew up on some of the old slave tunes, sung by the men and women of the town I lived in, on the church hymns that I could hear sung every Sunday from my open windows, on the crooning ballads of oldtime country singers. My mother would sing as she puttered about in her garden, always in a language that I later learned to be Latin. When we could distract my father from his studies, he’d laugh and sing in his booming voice, beautiful operatic songs in traditional Italian. Those are the sounds of my childhood. When I left for University, I was introduced to all sort of random music, and while it was a culture shock to me, I grew to love them all. I’m the tiny white girl that will listen to the hardest of raps, the darkest of rock or the most airy pop songs. I merely love music.
I know many people who also love music, but there has only been one person I’ve ever met that’s had music in her very soul. I have promised to not give names on this blog, well names when I’m sharing things that others might not want shared. Our meeting started blandly enough…She wished for a reading to be done, and my shop is destroyed. I carry my cards on me and I will never turn someone who wishes guidance down. Her cards were interesting. The two of wands in the past, someone who planned for the future, who knew what they wanted and fought hard to get there. The Queen of Wands, the Queen of passion, fire, determination and strength. A lioness’ heart in a woman’s body. And finally the Hermit in the future slot, saying that she needs to self-reflect and think about what she wants in life.
A weird draw, but not my weirdest. The rest of the evening is where things became unusual. I have mention before that I have a phobia of touch. When I say phobia, I mean that I go into a mild to severe panic attack at times when touched and because I was in a home I didn’t know, I ended up touching my poor client, than proceeded to fly into a panic attack and nearly knock over her likely beautiful table trying to escape, but there was no escape. All that was going through my head was flee flee flee. That repetition of sound and noise and panic was broken by the sound of a violin, the most beautiful violin that I have ever heard. It took that terror and replaced it with awe and joy and this overwhelming sense of peace. That sweet woman , who nothing about me had picked up her violin and played to my heart and soothed what I had become. Only a being made for music could do that….I left that house different I think