Where words fail, music speaks.

A Hans Christian Andersen quote for you - let it never be said that I settle for predictable post titles!

I've been meaning to write a post about music as a form of relief for quite some time but I could never find a frame in which to discuss it. Music is what it is, after all. It's often a deeply personal experience and so it can be difficult to define to another what a particular piece can make you feel.

I attended a concert I was busy getting excited about in my New Year post last week, and this crystallised exactly what I've been wanting to say.

Music is a relief because it can be a complete emotional catharsis when you find the right pieces and songs.

The concert was Trans-Siberian Orchestra, in only their second ever show on British shores. In 2011 they graced London with their Beethoven's Last Night show, and this time they were returning for two dates with a "never before seen Europe-only show" which promised to reunite elements of the band's past, present and future.

(Granted this is at a much bigger show in the USA, but I'm sure you get the gist...

Image from blogs.tennessean.com)

For those unfamiliar, TSO's past is most notably the heavy metal band Savatage, who have remained on permanent hiatus since their final summer festival appearances in 2002. The partner in crime and I spent most of our journey over to Manchester trading off which Savatage songs we thought would be played - whilst I love the Savatage I've heard, I'm not so well versed as he is as my first love is given to the TSO project. At heart I'm anyone's for big silly stage musical-esque goings-on. We were also meeting friends there, so it had all the makings of a very enjoyable night.

In describing exactly what TSO is I come up against some difficulty. Put as simply as possible it's a five piece rock band, a lead violin virtuoso, an orchestra and a choir of exceptional singers most of whom also take solo spots during the show and wouldn't be out of place on the West End or Broadway (where some have actually performed). There's also a narrator in the form of the wonderful Bryan Hicks, and it's all performed in the manner of an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. Oh, and there's classical pieces played as a mixture of the band and the orchestra. And pyrotechnics. And lasers.

They provide the perfect example of catharsis for me. It was fortunately or unfortunately dependent on view point a fully seated gig, although not without plenty of attempts by the band to get everybody on their feet. Some of the Savatage lends itself to nothing better than hair-whirling dancing, while plenty more of both theirs and TSO's back catalogue calls for singing along at the top of your lungs. At the other end of the scale was the heart-rending ballad Believe, performed with astonishing emotion by Robin Borneman. That marked the point in the night when both myself and Alex were reduced to tears.

He'll tell you the room was full of sand and someone in the row in front was chopping onions, but you should never believe anything he says!

(Robin "You-don't-need-those-heartstrings-anyway" Borneman, making Believe just that little bit more magical for me at least. Image from Youtube.com)

After that potent mixture of emotion throughout the night I felt almost scoured clean and completely drained, but in a rather more wonderful way than I would usually mean with that word. Seeing Bruce Springsteen (a childhood dream) in the summer of 2012 was a similar experience, as was watching Les Miserables in the West End for my eighteenth birthday.

That's the ultimate power of music for me - or a mixture of music and words in the case of songs - in the hands of the skilled it shines and can touch most everyone in some way, be it big or small. What's not to love about that?

On that note, without realising I've been slowly collecting a bunch of songs together over the last few years into a playlist on Youtube. I stick it on in the background when I'm writing for TRB, pulling admin duty for the brilliant Chronic Illness Cat page or just generally mucking about doing anything on the computer or in its near vicinity. I won't list everything in it, as it currently stands at 66 videos, but without consciously deciding to I've essentially put together my own emotional range of songs and I'll give a taster below.

• Objects in the Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are - Meat Loaf

Score one for the "tears" category. I don't mean it makes me sob every time, but it's just in that area of emotion. More a close-eyes-and-listen song. 

• Nord Mead - Miracle of Sound

Because everyone wants to be a Companion, "drinking mead in the halls of Whiterun". A silly offering from Miracle of Sound inspired by Skyrim - I actually tend to stop and watch the video for this one, just for the bloke at the beginning dancing about next to the dragon skeleton. If you're a Skyrim fan, I highly recommend this as a bit of fun.

• Gutter Ballet (live, from Ghost in the Ruins) - Savatage

Because it's wonderful, that's why. Score for the "Oh dear lord this is ridiculous" category.

•  Carmina Burana - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

You didn't seriously think they wouldn't make the list did you? Carmina Burana, possibly more easily recognised as the O Fortuna chorus, and one of my favourite pieces of music ever written.

• Icewind Dale Main Theme, Skyrim "Dragonborn" Theme - Jeremy Soule

Both excellent games and both pieces of music I love - what a pleasant combination. 

• We Take Care of Our Own, Born to Run (Live in Madison Square Gardens) - Bruce Springsteen (and the E Street Band)

If you need me to explain why, you haven't been paying attention to the rest of this blog. Correct this immediately!

• Into the West (The Return of the King OST) - Annie Lennox

Tears. I don't care a bit.

• Jerusalem - Bruce Dickinson

A stop, close eyes, and if alone belt out at the top of my lungs sort of a song (so potentially draining in more ways than one!)

• Nessun Dorma (live) - Russell Watson

I don't like everything Mr Watson sings, and obviously it' not the definitive version, but it's a beautiful song and a rather cracking version in my opinion. 

• Time to Say Goodbye (live at London's Colosseum) - Il Divo

Because I gave up having any sort of street cred a very long time ago. It's another of those songs that if I'm in the right mood and can make me well up a little.

• Fighting Trousers - Professor Elemental

I actually don't like your tweed Sir, as it happens. Perfect when I'm in need of a good giggle. 

I recommend this, if music is something you find relief in. Find the songs that make you laugh, the ones that make you cry, pieces of music that make your soul soar even if you don't know why, and the odd thing that just makes you stop and think. Stick them all together, press shuffle and enjoy!

In further music related tomfoolery, I'm slowly teaching myself to sing. Slowly. The ability as it turns out has probably always been there, it's just never had any work put into it as I have spent many years soundly convinced by others that I was hopeless. With some kind reassurance that I am in fact not so, I'm getting there. Let's call it my pet project for this year. 

My main problem at the moment is letting go of my inhibition to sing loudly enough to not fall slightly flat of the notes. It's getting better, and I'm beginning to find where my voice comfortably sits, although I'll be damned if I give up practising to the likes of Kamelot and Serenity just for the sheer fun of it. I'm currently teaching myself Nightwish's Eva, for those who know it. 

The point that I've come to realise is that you don't actually need to be a good singer to enjoy the release of singing along to your favourite pieces, and whoever can hear you can go whistle. I'm finding that singing, rather like dancing, is an incredible release of any pent up emotion and perfect for de-stressing. You don't need to be hugely talented in order to enjoy that release, and you don't owe it to anyone to meet an invisible standard.

And don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. 

Does anyone else have specific "go to" music, or do you use music as a form of relief in any way?

Wishing you all many spoons xxx

Different Wings

I came across this post on Tumblr courtesy of The CVS Girl and it set me off thinking (we all know this is dangerous by now!). The original full post was made by GlitterHerpes and is here.She offers the view of a problem with success stories. To quote.

"This is the problem with the “success stories” that pop up every now and then. Of people who overcome their obstacles and go on to do great things. You were born with cerebral palsy and you’re now the world’s leading theoretical physicist. That’s fucking fantastic! I’m really proud of you! But for people who have never struggled, this becomes a point of comparison." 

There will always be extraordinary people - if there weren't we'd have nothing to look up to and no "wow" factor. Reading these phenomenal success stories makes me smile. However, if phenomenal is the expected and set standard then we can have no appreciation of anything "lesser". All small triumphs go unnoticed by virtue of the fact they don't match up to these (for many) unrealistic heights of excellence.

Depending on your health "victory" is something entirely unique to you that may not apply to another person. I count it a victory when I manage to complete a full workout; I talk to others whose health dictates that a triumph is when they make it out of bed in the morning. Why should these personal feats be frowned upon or discredited because of a couple of extremely rare and extraordinary examples? 

Each triumph, however small, is something to be celebrated in the face of something lifelong and incurable. For the moment for most of us there will be no ultimate triumph of a cure. There is no flawless victory. Why should that mean we can't enjoy small and simple daily successes? Sure, they're not as impressive as being a leading theoretical physicist in the eyes of the healthy person who doesn't understand your situation  - why should that dictate how you feel? Nobody knows your body and your capabilities like you do - so focus on how you feel about your day and what you've achieved. 

(Stephen Hawking is absolutely incredible - but he's a one off. Let's not forget the man is a genius - they are very rare.
Graphic courtesy of curiositybydickens.com)

“Well if so-and-so did it, you certainly can do this!” 

Wrong, wrong, wrong, and have another wrong for luck.There can be no standard in chronic illness - the very nature of that generalised term renders standardising impossible. Playing the game of "but so-and-so can...." can constitute waltzing blindly into dangerous territory. Long term ill health is by its very nature a vulnerable state of being - I've made a post here about the negative feelings which are wrapped up in this experience. Being bombarded with "but so-and-so" is distinctly unhelpful and hugely insensitive.

Your health is yours, wholly and utterly. It is entirely personal and completely unique. There is no standard, not even for the same condition as they affect each person so monumentally differently.

This also brings up a point previously mentioned about comparing X condition with Y. I could declaim at length about the nonsensical stupidity of this, but I won't. Just stop it - don't go down that road and think before you speak.

"Everyone struggles, no matter what it is - it’s difficult for them. You’re saying that because this man with cancer tries to walk, I should “try” to not let my anxiety stop me. First of all, you don’t get to dictate what trying encompasses. You don’t get to set the standard of trying."

Continuing the unique point, "trying" is just as impossible a state to generalise. For every single person "trying" will involve something completely different dictated by how you feel that particular day and the limitations your overall health dictates. Nobody else gets to set the "standard" - you do. There is no reason at all that you should ever have to justify what you can and can't do on any given day to another person - after all the difference from day to day is one of the things which makes chronic ill health so tricky to both diagnose and explain to others.

I do want to draw attention to one particular paragraph as I really like the point being made:

"No one is obligated to try and especially not for someone else. It is perfectly acceptable to have a day, week, month, year of just giving up. Of breaking down. It’s fucking human! That’s why it’s called “being strong” when you manage not to, it implies that it’s not the normal, it is not the default - it requires effort."

Correct. An expectation to be strong all the time, never once showing a wavering of resolve or accepting the possibility of doubt is inhuman and ridiculous. I'm not suggesting "being strong" doesn't have its benefits - it certainly does - but as GlitteringHerpes said it's not the norm and shouldn't be expected as the norm. I'd also argue that the state of "being strong" will differ from person to person based on not only their illness but on their own personality also.

People shouldn't be criticised if they are more sensitive and easily upset than others, or if they refuse to put on a false front that they are indeed anything else. The fact we are all of different dispositions is something to be celebrated, not something to be swept aside because it doesn't fit a prescribed view of "being strong". Every single one of us at one point or another will need a good vent - it's healthy as it lets off steam and frees pent up emotion. Whether you scream, shout, burst into tears, punch something (preferably not someone!) or indeed anything else - it's fine. It's healthy in fact - you're human.

This brushes the edges of something I believe more widely in life as a whole - comparison to others isn't healthy. Your life is your own, just as any other person's is. You don't have the same experiences and you don't have the same joys and sorrows, the same trials or the same triumphs.

So how on earth can you expect the same outcomes?

(The grass isn't always as green as it appears.... courtesy of nerdfitness.com)

The only person you should ever compare yourself to in terms of ill health is you on a similar day - and I'm a firm believer there are very few of those. Focus on what you feel like you can do on this particular day and let that be enough. If you feel like pushing the boundaries a little, do so. If you feel like you can't, then don't and do what you feel you can. Winding yourself up with needless comparisons (whether spoken by someone else or conjured from your own head) will not help and will only hinder your small or indeed large successes. 

Save the world domination and paradigm-shifting discoveries for a day when you're feeling a little brighter.

Wishing you all many spoons xx