I didn’t have a tv in college. I was 19 and silence scared me, so I sat around and listened to music most of the time. Occasionally I read, but mostly I just listened. I was surrounded by other people’s words, but learned so much about my own voice in that year.
I learned a bit more about accepting my flaws. The thing about a good song is it’ll throw a knife in your soul. The right combination of words will mess up your world – in both good ways and bad ways. So I sat and I listened and I learned. I didn’t mindlessly watch stories of other lives nor escape to the daydreams books often provide – I heard words that reminded me of all the things I didn’t like about myself. And I couldn’t run away from it. There’s something about realizing something you don’t like and being forced to accept it that’s so empowering.
But I also learned how beautiful life is – other times I heard all the good things about myself. I thought about the wonderful parts of life and everything it has to offer – everything I have to offer. Whether simply because I heard how life really is fluid and there’s always something amazing at the end of the tunnel or because I was reminded how I survived something that hurt so badly.
There were always two sides to the story, and a whole bunch of grey areas between the good and the bad. I think that’s what I learned most – music reminds us that grey exists and it’s where life is mostly lived. And there’s so much to learn in the good and the bad and the times we don’t really know which is which.
I still don’t watch a ton of tv – I often sit on the floor and turn something on. I suppose there’s comfort in remembering how common the grey often is.