i've always had music with me.
growing up with music
i can't remember exactly when it became such a big part of my life. maybe it started with my dad, who used to come home from working abroad bringing cds, one after another. our living room was filled with different genres, artists, and albums. there was always something playing, something new to discover, and i think that's where my love for music began.
oh, and back when i was younger, i used to collect those song hits magazines too. you know, those little songbooks filled with lyrics and guitar chords? i had quite a collection. i wonder if that's a millennial thing, because back then, if you wanted to know the lyrics to a song, you either bought one of those or tried figuring out the words yourself by listening over and over again.
then there were the walkman, discman, cassette radios, and eventually the ipods. i had the shuffle, the mini, the video, and even the limited-edition u2 ipod, which unfortunately got stolen.
music was simply part of growing up.
it wasn't something i had to make time for. it was always there, playing in the background, accompanying me through long afternoons, quiet moments, and whatever i happened to be doing.
the instruments i left behind
somewhere along the way, i also learned how to play instruments.
i took piano lessons when i was younger. i don't remember much of what i learned now, and i honestly can't remember why i stopped. in high school, we had guitar classes, and for our final performance, we had to learn and play a song. i remember practising and memorising my piece, and my dad even bought me a guitar.
so there was a time when i was actually learning music, not just listening to it.
but somewhere along the way, life happened.
i got busy, developed other interests, and eventually had other responsibilities to think about. before i knew it, playing instruments was no longer part of my everyday life.
my brother eventually became the one who really got into playing piano. we still have one at home, tucked under his bed.
and then there's one instrument i've always wanted to learn but never got around to trying: the drums.
i remember being particularly interested in them years ago. i wanted to take lessons, sit behind a drum kit, and actually learn how to play. but there was always something else going on, something that needed my attention, or simply not enough time.
so i kept putting it off, thinking maybe someday.
but even though i stopped playing instruments, music itself never really left me.
i've always been the type of person who pays attention to the smallest details in a song. i notice the melodies, the changes in rhythm, the guitar, the bass, and the drums. sometimes i'm more interested in how a song is arranged than what the lyrics are actually saying.
i've also noticed that i'm usually drawn to the sound first before i even begin paying attention to the meaning behind it.
when music went silent
but something changed this year.
when my husband left for deployment last may and i found myself alone here at home, music suddenly felt empty.
for someone who had always relied on music as a constant companion, it was strange to find myself unable to listen to it.
everything sounded dark, distant, and somehow unrelatable. the songs that used to accompany me through almost every part of my life no longer seemed to have a place in it.
the house became a prison of my own thoughts.
i caught myself watching movies after movies, series after series, anything that could occupy my mind and fill the silence. it was easier to follow someone else's story than sit alone with my own thoughts.
music, for a while, felt dead to me.
i think part of it was because i didn't want to be reminded of my present circumstances.
being alone in a place that was still relatively new to me, adjusting to a life i hadn't quite settled into, and knowing that this arrangement would continue for a long time wasn't exactly something i wanted to dwell on.
thinking too much about the present only made everything feel more depressing.
the soundtrack of my twenties
then something happened in july.
something sparked my curiosity, and suddenly, i found myself listening to music again.
but what i started listening to wasn't necessarily the music i related to in my present life.
it was the music i used to listen to in my twenties.
songs i hadn't played in years. artists i had almost forgotten about. entire albums that used to be part of my everyday life back then.
before i knew it, i was going through my old playlists, revisiting songs, remembering where i was in life when i first discovered them, and trying to understand why certain songs resonated with me at the time.
it became a strange kind of musical archaeology.
i wasn't necessarily trying to relive my twenties, but i found myself becoming increasingly curious about that version of me.
what was i thinking back then? what was going on in my life? why did i listen to these songs so much? and why do some of them suddenly sound different to me now?
there's something interesting about revisiting music from a particular period of your life.
the songs haven't changed, but you have.
sometimes you remember exactly what a song meant to you. other times, you realise you were too young to fully understand what you were listening to.
and sometimes, you discover that the meaning you attached to a song years ago is completely different from how you interpret it today.
i think that's what kept me interested.
it wasn't just about listening to music again. it was about rediscovering the things i used to enjoy and, in some ways, reconnecting with an older version of myself.
maybe it was also easier to revisit the past than to think too much about the present.
not because i wanted to go back or change anything, but because those memories belonged to a time when my life looked completely different.
and for a while, that was enough to give my mind somewhere else to wander.
what i find interesting is that music eventually found its way back into my life through curiosity rather than comfort.
i didn't wake up one day and decide that i wanted to start listening again.
it just happened.
one song led to another, one memory led to another, and suddenly i was listening to music almost every day again.
finding my way back
and i think this also connects to how i experience creativity in general.
as someone who works in the creative field, i've always associated creativity with making things. designing, writing, experimenting, and turning ideas into something tangible. but i've come to realise that creativity isn't always about producing something.
sometimes it's simply about observing, listening, noticing details, and finding meaning in things that other people might overlook.
and lately, i've been thinking about returning to the parts of music i once participated in.
maybe i should take piano lessons again. maybe i should finally learn how to play the drums. or perhaps pick up a guitar and see if i still remember anything from high school.
i know i'd probably have to start from the beginning, but i don't think that matters anymore.
i just want to experience learning something again, without feeling the need to be good at it or turn it into another accomplishment.
looking back, it's strange how something that had been part of my life for so long could suddenly feel so distant, only to return when i least expected it.
perhaps revisiting the music of my twenties was my way of reconnecting with a version of myself that existed before all these responsibilities and changes.
not because i wanted to go back, but because sometimes, when the present feels a little too heavy, it's comforting to remember the things that once made you feel like yourself.
maybe some parts of us never really disappear. we just lose touch with them for a while.