I remember the first time I realized I didn’t hear music the same as everyone else.
To them, music was wallpaper. A pleasant backdrop for another passing day.
But for me it was different. Music was alive and mysterious. It was calling me somewhere I didn’t understand.
So I started to chase it. I listened and practiced and missed notes and practiced more.
Turned knobs I couldn’t figure out and found sounds I didn’t know were possible.
I wrote out my heart. Crumpled it up and threw it away. Wrote it out again.
And every time I thought I was about to get my hands on it, the music would disappear again. Around a corner. Behind a cloud.
So I became an explorer. I chased the music down city streets, through crowded parks, under bridges and over trees. I climbed mountains. Sailed oceans.
I wanted to find the music. I wanted to find myself.
I know now I will never grab ahold of it. And that’s ok.
It’s given me the world. Brought me into the family.
Brought me to you, my fellow explorer.
Where do you want to go?
Let’s go together.