What's the Score?

Several times a week I will say out loud that I should watch more movies or television but I get home and I start writing or picking up after my boys. I still haven't watched more than a few YouTube videos but I did experience something movie related.  This afternoon I had a moment where there was space to just be.  I was listening to a score for something I have never seen, but in the soft melody that tickled at something light and playful, I was able to just experience what I was being pulled into.  I had no idea what the dialogue would have been or what I would have seen or heard to hand feed what the director had in mind.  I had a melody and in what I heard, I was able to just feel.

We never pay much attention to the musical score of a movie or television show.  Unless you are into films and production, most of us don't notice because it's not meant to be noticed.  The power of a score is in its ability to make you feel without telling you anything.  I really felt that today and it was incredible.  The beauty of it was in the simplicity of just being open to what I felt and not having to overthink anything.

Sometimes our extrasensory perception speaks to us in a way that a musical score would.  It's that physical reaction that doesn't match the rest of what we feel.  It's when you talk to someone that says nice things and looks beautiful, and yet you feel prickly tingles at the base of your skull or your calves tense like your body is ready to run.

At other times, it's the soundtrack of our past that loops through a new experience.  Without trying to, we often will subconsciously refer to something in our past to make connections in our present and predict our future.  This is why we find comfort in relationships that remind us of our opposite gendered parent.  This is why we have a hard time trusting when we see a behavior we experienced from a previously broken heart.

We rely on lessons that we've learned or have been told.  We imagine the many intricate deceptions that flower out of a missed call or ignored text.  We don't think about what we are doing to ourselves, but the score of our history colors and decorates our present and future unless we are aware and can shift our perspective into something new and experience each moment as a new possibility.

I'm in the process of selecting a new score for myself.

In relationships, I'm not looking to create a future and a long life together.  Each moment is a gift and I won't burden it with what should be or what has been because I'm enjoying what is, without worrying about what could be.  That's what unconditional love is about.  It's not about planned resentments when I realize the pedestal I prepared for someone else was only made for me. It's about a moment that may or may not lead to another moment, and appreciating all that was offered in that moment, without searching for the promise of something more.

In life I'm relying on my gut instinct more than I did before.  There is something about a physical reaction that is worth listening to.  When I first met my latest crush, there were definite butterfly moments.  Or indigestion. But the idea of running into him gave me a physical reaction and once I got past the shock, it was a feeling I now look forward to. (I'm not used to feeling like a teenager anymore.)

You wouldn't know by watching me walk or talk, but I am often assaulted by doubt and insecurities.  The ideas of low self worth will randomly surprise me from time to time.  Depression will creep up on me if I'm not cautious about the thoughts I allow to roam unbidden through my mind.  Silencing doubt and insecurities and that voice that chimes in the nonsense of not being enough is sometimes a challenge, but when it's quiet and instead I can hear my intra-personal cheering section, I feel stronger and confident.

I'm creating a score that builds in urgency and excitement. It's a trail of light footsteps that lead me through a forest on a path dotted with small animals and dewy moss covered rocks.  It's sunshine that filters through the trees, warming the coldest recesses of my heart and making me stretch in sweet resistant pain.

What are you listening to when you can no longer hear the words or see the frames?