My inky prison of a mind and how it danced again

Do you ever find yourself trying to articulate your feelings to yourself, but your thoughts are too slow to keep up with the stream of consciousness?
It’s hard enough to put emotions into words anyway. We are already held captive by whatever vocabulary we possess.
Today, when I felt restless but unable to point to a reason, I relied on a better language than my own: music.

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere
– Taylor Swift

I used to think the key to healing was understanding myself. But I can only do that by stringing causality and consequences together by words. Knowledge is a great start, but it ultimately led me in circles.
What good is figuring out your behavioural patterns if you are just going to repeat them?
Can moments of clarity and change be triggered by anything other than external circumstances?
I might know the best tricks to find a way out of my mind maze, but it isn’t until life puts me on my back that I can see the blue sky.

These are fast times and fast nights,
No time for rewrites, we couldn’t help it
– Sabrina Carpenter

Music helps me to go deep within myself to a place of knowing.
Instead of grasping for answers, I can allow myself to get carried away in the tangles of someone else’s healing journey. I can hear the words they sing, but also the melody that is another type of speech itself.
Waves that were previously crashing against my shore begin to soften when confronted with music.
Where my diary and journaling failed, the keys on my keyboard persisted.

Or maybe you were the ocean
When I was just a stone
– Ben Howard

Of course, it’s the sense of connection, of not being alone with my pain, that renders solace.
The feeling of being completely held by the vulnerability of a singer, while they are held by your attention. It’s an exchange of gifts that alleviates both our loneliness one note at a time.