"Here on Christmas Day"

A Christmas song ... 

"Photographs in picture frames

Around memories of yesterdays.

Raise a glass to everyone

Whose footsteps are still on my heart,

Whose loved has kissed my soul,

Whose heart has held my own,

And though they’re gone,

I feel they are still here on Christmas Day.

Come with me and let me show you

This wonderful, magical Christmas Tree. 

Each toy is a memory; past, present and future,

Each light is a kiss; there’s even a spare!

Raise your glass high; both behind and forward

As we toast the past, and what’s yet to be.

Santa Claus holds us all safe in his arms,

As we over-indulge in this love that we share.

 

Stories that are yet to be

Written down in memories.

Let’s spare a thought for those yet to come;

Souls that my heart has yet to meet.

Gifts that will be share,

Food to be prepared,

And though they’re not yet here,

I feel their love here on Christmas Day.

Come with me and let me show you

This wonderful, magical Christmas Tree.

Each toy is a memory; past, present and future,

Each light is a kiss; there’s even a spare!

Raise your glass high; both behind and forward

As we toast the past, and what’s yet to be.

Santa Claus holds us all safe in his arms,

As we over-indulge in this love that we share ..."

(c) Sharon Cox 25.12.12

I catch the songs that make the whole world sing ...

 Playing my guitar this morning, working on a couple of the songs I've written recently, I began thinking about the process of songwriting ... & how obscure it is; at least for me!

I can't consciously grab hold of what happens when I write a song.  I never write in a formulaic way. I don't think about music theory when I'm writing.  I don't think about what 'should' work or 'shouldn't' work.  I just allow the song to emerge ...

And that's the process for me.  I can't force a song to be written.  I can't just sit down and decide to write a song.  The song will only be written when the time's right for the song; that's just how it feels.  

Earlier in my life, I was a prolific songwriter.  Songs came easily to me.  They weren't all necessarily good ones, but some were!  What, for me, was important though, was that I could write songs.  I could express myself, my thoughts and feelings through music and lyrics; and that was a powerful outlet for me.  And then, somewhere along the way, I seemed to lose that ability.  Fortunately, for whatever reason (& I could hazard a guess as some of those reasons!), I seem to have broken through my writers' block and have written 3 new songs over the last few months, which gives me great pleasure.  

And yet, to go back to the songwriting process, I'm not sure what I do to write a song.  It's feels more like a process of me having to capture what emerges through my fingers on the guitar or piano, or through my mouth when lyrics & / or a tune begin to emerge, or even what I sometimes hear vaguely playing somewhere in my mind.  I'm not consciously creating the song ... it feels more like it emerges through me & I have to catch it!!

Which isn't always easy.  Sometimes, I can 'hear' that tune in my head, but I somehow can't quite get it out through my voice or instrument.  And that can be really frustrating!  But that moment when I do stumble across, or find, the right notes or chords is amazing!  Such a sense of achievement; 'Wow! that's it!'  It can make me smile or even laugh out loud, when the song is suddenly out there!  I feel a sense of pride at this piece of music that I've created, that's come from me ... & yet I still don't fully understand where it comes from!

Does that matter though?  The final creation is what matters ... the song; no matter where it comes from, or how it gets there ...

Melodious, Harmonious Empathic Connections

I've been sitting reflecting between clients today on a changed sense of self I'm currently experiencing.  I'm recognising it as an opening up, an expansion, and also a reconnection to a vital part of myself that 've suppressed over the last few years.

In my teens and early twenties, music was a huge and vital part of my life; a huge and vital part of mySelf.  Back then, when I didn't have a strong sense of Self, music gave me an identity and a way of expressing myself. I played guitar, a little bit of piano, sang, and wrote songs; and I loved it.

Leading up to, and during, my counselling training, I began to develop and connect with a much stronger sense of Self as an individual. Self awareness, personal development, psychological theories and therapeutic ways of being enveloped me. I found other ways of expressing myself. I became a 'Counsellor,' a 'Clinical Supervisor.' I became a 'PhD Student,' an 'Eating Disorders Specialist.' I became a 'Clinical Hypnotherapist' and 'NLP Practitioner.

But somewhere along this path, I forgot that I was also a 'Musician,' and a 'Songwriter.'

Sitting here today, I can see how blinkered I'd become, how focused my vision had become onto the therapeutic and eating disorders worlds. I loved, and do still love, that therapeutic world. I love connecting therapeutically with clients, exploring my own, and others' subjectivities, sharing deep empathic understandings and connections, being part of, and observing, the growth and change processes of others.

But, I also love music. And I think I've forgotten that at times.

For me, the connection that happens in the therapy room when working at depth with clients, is a similar sense of connection I feel when connecting with other musicians in a music room. And it's only as I write this now that I'm understanding that parallel. For me, connection is so important. That sense of retaining my own unique individuality (sense of Self), whilst connecting at a deep empathic level with others, is vital, and as both a musician and a therapeutic practitioner I'm lucky to experience that.

If possible, at times, the musical connection can feel even deeper than the therapeutic one. Playing an instrument or singing a song with other musicians, and hearing and feeling part of a shared whole (the song) is incredible. One retains one's individuality as the musician, but it truly is an experience where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. It truly is empathic connection at the deepest level; embodied, through Self, through instruments, and through the music.

Embodiment has been a significant part of my PhD research. And I'm now really appreciating just what an embodied experience music is; both when playing an instrument or listening to live / recorded music. Music isn't just heard. It's felt. The bass line or drum beat that resonates through one's body. The melody or song lyric that causes the hairs on the back of one's neck or arms, to stand on end. The rhythm that your foot just can't help tapping along to. And when playing an instrument, the musician and instrument seem to merge. Watch musicians play, and just see how their body moves with, and around, their instrument. Observe their facial expressions as they lose themselves in the sound and the act of creating that sound. And when playing an instrument it can, at those times of empathic connection with the music, feel that the instrument truly is an extension of one's bodily self.

It's no wonder that for some musicians, their instrument becomes so precious to them.

I'm excited about reconnecting with my Musical Self. It feels as if my sense of Self has expanded, has opened up. My world is suddenly a bigger, much more expansive, expressive place. I think the 3 recent entries on here, and the song I've just written, are proof of that! An opening of my mind, and an expansion of my creativity, which I hope will also help me re-engage with my therapeutic and academic work in a much more expansive and creatively expressive way too.

  

Melodious, harmonious empathic connections, musically, therapeutically and academically are hopefully mine now ...

The Songwriter's Muse

Inspiration can strike in the oddest of places ... here I am, sitting in a motorway services somewhere on the M1 on a wet Sunday afternoon and a song has began to take shape in my head!

I used to be quite a prolific songwriter (not all good, but a few memorable ones!) but I've gotten out of the habit in recent years. However, after an enjoyable and extraordinary encounter this weekend, musical inspiration seems to have infiltrated my unconscious ... and I feel excited by it!

I never had a set way of writing songs. Sometimes the lyrics would come first, at other times the melody or the chords would introduce themselves to me as I played my guitar or piano. Sometimes they'd make themselves known to me simultaneously. I always had a storyline for a song ... a complete, contained little tale told in a few verses and a chorus, with sometimes a 'middle eight' or a reprieve thrown in for good measure.

Today though, I'm sitting here looking at the cars and lorries driving by on the M1 and the storyline has presented itself to me, visually initially, inside my head. I can see images in my mind ... almost like the video that would accompany the song. From the images I can see the atmosphere the song will contain, and from that atmosphere, I can hear, in my mind, the feel, shape and sound the song will take.

From that storyline and atmosphere, I'm writing potential lyrics, the story the song will sing. Of course, they'll change as they find their place in the music yet to be composed. Their structure and rhymes will change and adapt as they find their best fit amongst the melody, chords and rhythm.

My songs have always been inspired by personal experience; by something that's happened to me, been said to me, or that I've seen or read. They're not always an accurate representation of my personal experience and feelings, but sometimes adaptations, exaggerations, contractions, alternative realities. And I like the ambiguity that comes from knowing that others don't my truth; is the song my reality, or is it not?! It allows me to be emotionally present in the songs whilst not laying myself too vulnerably bare. (Similar in many ways to how I write this blog).

And I feel so excited! I can't wait to get home and sit down with my guitar or at my piano and allow the music to flow. Because for me, as a songwriter, that's what needs to happen; the song needs to flow. It feels like the song writes itself; like I'm just the channel through which the lyrics and music find life.

And that's such an exciting process! I remember the sense of achievement, awe, contentment and pride when a song has been born. Something that I've created and given life to.

And right now, I'm looking forward to feeling that unmistakeable feeling once again ... very soon!

And following from my previous entry ... I wonder if the people around me now can see any outward signs of my inner excitement as I manically type this up alongside the lyrics on my iPad!?!

  

... with special thanks to my brown eyed inspiration ;-)