Taps & noise

When I was three I was a dancer.  My parents said I used to sit in the corner of the room and watch the other kids learn.  The teachers would always try to get me on my feet to partake in the class but I just watched. When I would come home I would dance the entire song by heart, singing. I tap danced with tiny shoes that hit the floor with new sounds each time.  This was the only time it was okay for me to make a whole bunch of noise without getting reprimanded for my loudness. And I wasn’t made fun of either. The noise drowned out the sound.  It drowned out everything that everyone had ever said about me. The taps were my own song and for me it was the easiest and only thing I could listen to. In a way, I suppose I was singing a song about myself as well as for myself.  It just was too much at times to add any real words.

Music is the one thing I’ve found that settles souls while equally deepening them.  And for this reason I know with all of my being that it is heavenly made. There are pieces of humans that can only be expressed and found through music, where truly there are no words of any type, yet a single note, played at a perfect moment, in a perfect setting, for the perfect heart, tends to be the most profound.