I’ve been hearing from folks recently that they feel a bit helpless. We go about our lives each day, as we must, because to shut down completely doesn’t help. As always, the news of the world could take up our whole consciousness if we let it.
Yet, this sense of helplessness that may come from being engaged with the world, can hang heavy in the air. Sometimes, the answer is to take a break from the news. Please do that if you need to, and do so without guilt. However, if we are engaging in a healthy way, helplessness can be very real and we need to be careful that it does not descend into hopelessness.
I can find myself thinking that what I am doing is insignificant in the whole scheme of things. How does my work, which involves sitting at the piano or the computer creating music, help change the world for the better? And yet this is what I’m drawn to do and I have to believe there is a reason for that.
I do believe that music can change how we view the world. Sometimes, for me, it’s the text and music together that are transformative. Setting a poem to music means the poem goes out into the world not only in a new way, but often to new audiences. In this way, a poet’s words are dispersed like seeds of hope.
I have many favorite poets, but recently I have been working with the words of Naomi Shihab Nye. (I wrote about her poem “Kindness” in my last blog post.) Naomi’s poem, “Shoulders,” is the text for my new song is called “To Live in This World.”
I was able to hear “To Live in This World” for the very first time the other day! It’s an out-of-body experience hearing my music sung for the first time. (Truth be told, this is true even if I’ve heard a piece 100 times.) The Lebanon Valley Concert Choir sang it for me. Hearing the marriage of Naomi’s words with my music sung by these students took hold of me – even through the audio of FaceTime! I had the chills several times when particular passages were sung with incredibly tender care and attention to detail. They are premiering “To Live in This World” April 8 at the Pennsylvania Music Educators Association Conference.
Naomi’s poem tells us about a man crossing the street in rain with his son asleep on his shoulder. She invites us into this scene of father and son, as “his ear fills up with breathing” and he “hears the sound of a boy’s dream deep inside him.”
Naomi reminds us that “we’re not going to be able to live in this world if we’re willing to do what he’s doing with one another.” That’s a tall order, but one I still believe we can accomplish.
The students and I had a great discussion about the poem and the music. We talked about how the poem relates to their lives and to the world. I truly believe that poetry and music make us think differently, widening our lens to help us feel more connected and opening us up to new ways of viewing the world. And in times of helplessness, music and poetry can help us feel hopeful.
Music and poetry are not panaceas. They don’t end the horrors of the world, but they can help us navigate our days so that we are able to show up. Sometimes they can move people to protest or stand up for the rights of others. Compassion, born of sorrow and hope, nurtured by music and poetry, can lead us to change the world for good in so many ways. Music and poetry are there for us, always.
How has music or poetry helped you when you felt helpless? What songs or poems have helped you get through your days? How has music or poetry opened up your world?
Here’s a link to a twitter thread about “1944,” a song by Jamala that opened up my world. Anthropologist, Jennifer Carroll, shares some background information about the Ukrainian born singer, Jamala, and the song “1944” which is a reference to the forced deportation of the Tatar population from Crimea. Her grandmother and her grandmother’s 5 children were among those deported. It’s amazing!
More blogs in this series: Finding Kindness
Shoulders
A man crosses the street in rain,
stepping gently, looking two times north and south,
because his son is asleep on his shoulder.
No car must splash him.
No car drive too near to his shadow.
This man carries the world’s most sensitive cargo
but he’s not marked.
Nowhere does his jacket say FRAGILE,
HANDLE WITH CARE.
His ear fills up with breathing.
He hears the hum of a boy’s dream
deep inside him.
We’re not going to be able
to live in this world
if we’re not willing to do what he’s doing
with one another.
The road will only be wide.
The rain will never stop falling.
by Naomi Shihab Nye
“Shoulders” from Red Suitcase. Copyright © 1994 by Naomi Shihab Nye.
Used with Permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of the author and BOA Editions, Ltd., www.boaeditions.org