Music that lifts my soul

This is Why I Danced in the Rain Today

I felt free

Yesterday, for the first time in what feels like an age, I drove alone to the supermarket, a few miles down the dual carriageway, and put some music on to accompany me on the journey.

And that was when something weird happened.

It was music I hadn’t listened to for a while but is a Spotify “radio” that I have in my favourites, filled with lots of upbeat, experimental-cum-traditional French and European tunes. It’s the kind of music I absolutely adore; that churns up lots of memories of friends, France, dancing, and good times — easy times from another life before life became heavy and filled with a multitude of responsibilities.

Music is powerful. It evokes emotions with such ease. Each instrument and each rhythm has the power to pull on a different heartstring. Lyrics, harmonies, you name it, they will draw your tears or your smiles…or both.

Sometimes it’s the words, sometimes the sounds, and sometimes it’s both. This time, it was pure sound.

I felt my muscles relax for the first time in weeks, and then the tears started to roll down my cheeks as I realised what I had, unknowingly, been missing. I had forgotten what it can feel like to just bathe in the wonder of those things that hold meaning for us and us alone. How long had it been since I had listened to my music or done something just for me?

Too long, I will tell you that now.

For some reason, I can go weeks without remembering that I have things that special to me. Music can be a great reminder.

I relished that half hour I had of driving alone to soak up what I could in that little snatch of time.

I had forgotten the power that music can have on our bodies and minds, but it is powerful.

So, this morning, when I went walking on the moor with Ginger the dog, I decided I needed music. This was further emphasised by the fact that I was walking in the rain — something I never do, and something I can rarely persuade Ginger to do.

We’re fair weather beings, okay?

But I had arrived on the moor with the plan to walk, and then the rain decided to come along and set in. So was I going to let the rain win by scuppering our plans, or was I going to walk anyway?

Ginger looked a bit reluctant when she first got out of the car, but the wide open running space beckoned and won her over. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, thinking, “music,” before realising that I had left my earphones at home.

I looked around. No one else was as mad as us to be walking on a ridge in the rain, so who was I going to disturb by playing my music loudly as I walked?

The pocket in my light waterproof coat perfectly kept my phone dry while not smothering the speaker, and I could listen as I walked.

These were two things I never do — walk in the rain and pollute the silence of the moor with my music. And it was refreshing to do those things I never do for once, uninhibited.

The music took me somewhere else. For a moment, while on the top of the tor we climbed, in my mind's eye, I saw myself dancing a mazurka and I let the rhythm lead my feet.

It was here that the rain finally slowed to a gentle drizzle, and a small patch of blue sky could be glimpsed. A schottische was now playing, and I found my body bouncing in response. I was still alone on this wide-open moor except for Ginger and some sheep. Who was going to care if I danced in the rain?

And so I danced right up there on that Dartmoor hill with no one watching. Because I had a moment that was mine — all mine — and I grabbed it with both hands.

I may not get such a moment again for a long time, but for this morning, it was mine. And I felt free.

I was inspired to write this by Nancy Blackman’s 30-days of prompts, specifically, “What is one thing you would never do and why?”

Except with a twist. I would never walk in the rain…but I did. And then I danced too.

I would also love to share this amazing piece by Christopher Robin that, in amazing synchronicity, he published today when I was already writing this piece on the sadness that music induced in me and brought me back to myself.

Enjoy!