Unmoved

I love music.  All types of music?  Apparently not.

I went to a concert last night to hear Nicolas Altstaedt, a world-renowned cellist, and Fazil Say, a similarly honoured pianist.  Being an optimistic person, I expected to be enthralled.  I wasn’t.

On the surface of things, I should have been transported to heavenly realms.  Nicolas was outrageously handsome, in his 30’s, with longish hair that fell over his eyes as he played.  His fingers flew on the strings and his tone was of a virtuoso.  In his passion, he would lean every which way as the music took him.  Sometimes he would lift his eyes and stare long into the recesses of the hall.  Then those eyes would close as he bowed a tender passage.  He wore a black turtleneck and often pulled on the sleeves to let his hands flow free.

It was supposed to work.  Isn’t a young, handsome, brilliant male what society says the world is all about?  Well … not for me.  The bare truth was that I didn’t like the music.  I saw myself yearning for sweeping melodies, and they were not to be found.  Shouldn’t I be gushing over the brilliance of the musician?  No.  “Should” doesn’t fit in this conversation.  Either my heart opens or it doesn’t.  Either I’m swept away or I sit inert.

So I applauded politely for the efforts of the two human beings in front of me but the hands fell back into my lap quite soon.  And then the final piece.  At its conclusion, the performers bowed and my hands came together as my butt remained fixed to the seat.  Around me, folks gradually stood.  I felt the cheers begin to soar and soon I was virtually the only person near me who wasn’t standing.  I smiled.  When I’m moved, I usually stand immediately – the complete opposite of the current moment.  Nicolas and Fazil left the stage and returned three times as the hearty applause continued.  Mine had long since stopped.

There’s no right and wrong about all this.  I’m happy that I was true to myself.  Sweet melodies often lift my soul to the heights.  No harm, no foul if my heart isn’t moved to open.  It’s just the rhythms of life saying hi once again.  As one wise one said:

When you’re hot, you’re hot
When you’re not, you’re not

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