The Roots

Feb. 08, 2017

I went to bed last night confused, not myself, and unable to pinpoint what exactly was myself and what was not. I was irritable, internally angry, ungrateful, empty; characteristics that I don’t typically associate with my being. This morning those feelings hadn’t entirely dissipated. Regardless, I went through my newest morning routine, carefully wiping down the shower after use, pleasantly put on my make-up, drank my coffee, processed the fact that I was about to head to see the UN (!!!). Yet, I never felt truly jazzed for the day, a definite divide existing between mind and spirit. As I stepped out the front door and noticed I had 2 minutes to catch my bus I ran through the slippery ice streets and shakily stepped to my seat. Settling in, I wedged my headphone into my ears and iTunes did a beautiful thing for it’s consumer–it shuffled where I needed it to and played me an old cheesy song, reminding me who I’ve been through music, one of my most effective mediums for remembrance. Rachel Platten’s poppy voice poured into my drums and I pumped myself up to “Fight Song.” A few years back I lost my iTunes account and never reestablished a new music library. Since then my taste has changed, but before I took off for my travels I downloaded about 150 tracks (including a couple of old favorites) to keep me company for my commutes. I’m so glad I did. I honestly didn’t anticipate Fight Song being a favorable song on my playlist, and this may be only if the only times I listened to it, but when you’re out on your own it is so necessary to have some tools to remind you of your essence and the persons you’ve been so that as you inevitably change you have some roots of comfort.