During this pandemic, I recommend music-lovers, such as myself, to find therapy in this form of creative expression.

Music’s always played a major role in providing inspiration, hope and an escape from our typical day-to-day existence.

This art form can be a temporary distraction from the constant fear and anxiety currently consuming the public. There's also the uncertainty of becoming infected or infecting loved ones, struggling to put food on the table, make rent and afford the never-ending flow of bills coming in as thousands suffer from unemployment.

While in a state of limbo during this time, there’s no correct answer of how to handle these new troubles, but I’ve found delving into memories embedded into different songs and albums listened to during better times has personally been a spiritual medication.

I’ve been delving into those albums which were the soundtrack of my late teen years and early 20s. 

In doing so, I’ve experienced both fantastic and not-so-fantastic emotions through these memories, but both feelings are beautiful in their own ways.

As cliche as the saying “music is the soundtrack to our lives” may seem, as I’ve grown older, I’m understanding that statement to be filled with more truth than I originally believed.

Memories, whether good or bad, are intertwined in my mind with the melodies which took place during different experiences.

Some of the artists and songs I’ve recently been listening to remind me of the freedom of my youth. Running wildly and fearlessly through the streets, and being fortunate enough to leave all worries behind with the belief of being invincible.

Then there are albums which take me back to times I desperately clung to an individual I loved in an attempt to not sink, and clutched my heart in the hope of stopping the pain pumping through each heartbeat. I’m reminded of the rock too heavy to lift from a pit in my stomach caused by youthful angst, uncertainty, heartbreak, fear and trying to discover who I was. At a younger age, there’s no in-between from ecstasy and despair.

During the stay-at-home order, I’ve listened to songs from my past creating a vivid scene of lying on the hood of a car, staring at the sky with admiration and wonder.

I remember the sensation of hearing the Pixies for the first time and proceeding to flip over a chair I’d danced too hard on while experiencing the raw and original sounds I’d never before had the pleasure of hearing.

I can also feel the tears rolling down my cheeks like the rain hitting the windshield as I listened to a heartbreaking tune while driving.

Regardless of which memory the gift of music grants us, it provides hope through meaningful experiences which have taken place and will continue to occur once again. 

Standard reporter Atlanta Northcutt can be reached at 473-2191.