The Music Of Life

A beautiful symphony was playing. It was a never-ending song, one of both joy and pain. Never ending, and never pausing. The music was played so intricately and so passionately. Yet, it was not like any music ever composed before. This was a soundless piece, played by no orchestra, and played with not a single instrument. I paused a moment in my tracks to listen. It rang loudly in my ears, yet it made no sound at all.

The music had been playing the same movement a lot of the late. One of which I struggled to comprehend. In the background, I heard a joyous sound, played by the violins for the cheerful soul. Playing the unmistakable sound of both the warm summer evening and the flowery bloom of spring combined. The music was accentuated and completed by the chirping of the flute and the calling of the piano. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth that spread through my being. It was a feeling of acceptance, a feeling of welcoming.

Whilst enjoying the piece, I failed to notice minor changes in the music. They were sudden changes, but so subtle it was, that the music continued beautifully. Unwavering, the music went on. Only this time, there was a different atmosphere to it all. The violins were still playing, but it was only now that I noticed a change of key. The flute has stopped playing, and replaced by the melancholic sound of the cello.

It didn’t make sense to me. How can something equally beautiful as the last, be so hurtful and full of sorrow? I opened my eyes, and immediately the music ceased. I chose to ignore the playing music, for now. It was not that it wasn’t played well, no. The music has always been perfect, so full of emotion and depth. I just felt a need to pause the symphony. At least until I was ready to handle the burden.

It’s ironic how something so contradictory, happiness and hurt, can stand side-by-side separated by only a very fine line. One can delve into either, and not notice until it’s too late. At times, the line can even blur out and the two coincide, but barely just. None gaining power over the other, and neither fighting for control. It is, and has always been, up to me, the conductor, to decide which one takes form.

It was a never-ending song, one of both joy and pain. A concerto of the heart. Played by one, assisted by many, but controlled by only me. I closed my eyes and the music played once more. It was time I took control of my life. It was time we all did.

-Izzat R.