Good Vibrations

How music hits the sweet spot

Cello is to music what poetry is to writing (for me).

Something that’s been in my orbit but not generally listened to or read. And yet when I encounter either of them at any point – it’s like meeting a part of me I didn’t know existed. It’s a resonance – a vibration that sets something off in my system that activates a place of rest, of peace – a homecoming.

What I love is that now my son has it too. I’ve subtly mentioned over the years how a particular note in a song resonates – or where it lands in my body – cello notes right in the centre of my solar plexus. I swear if you cut me open during a cello concerto or during the playing of a particular song you would see my innards vibrating – that’s not a great image but it’s not a slight fluttering – it’s a BIG visceral feeling and I love it because it makes me feel totally and utterly alive.

Anyway, back to my son – what I love now is that he will often say – got this to show you – it’s inevitably a YouTube clip either of a film or often an artist showcasing a song. I’ll be listening, smiling, enjoying but then he will say….”wait for it” – a note will hit, my eyes will well up with tears – I’ll look at him and he’ll be doing the same and we’ll both laugh at the fact that this note hits us both. I love that about him. It shows me he is moved by music or films and one day it will be other things like art, literature, poetry or maybe even love because when that frequency hits – wow that packs a punch.

But you are here for the concert – you want to know what happened, what it was like etc and I have digressed mercilessly because that’s what I do – go off at tangents, get distracted and excited when a thought arises. Early on in my return to Substack someone said – don’t be afraid to go off at tangents – that keeps it interesting. So now I do.

It was a Sunday morning, and I thought – WHY did I book this. Do I want to schelp into town (it’s a city but we always affectionately call it “Town”) to a place I don’t know and lie down with a load of other people. OH GOD I just want to lie in bed, have a nice cup of tea and journal. Read Substack….

But I’d book the tickets months before when I was trying to prove to myself that I lived a very rich and varied life – I’d just emerged from my self-induced hermitage – I hibernate from November to March usually – tuning into the sleepier, restorative energies of Winter before unfurling myself in Spring. So early March I booked Lie Down and Listen at a small church concert hall – It mentioned Cello and Piano and I thought how nice it would be to do as it said and lie down and listen to music for a couple of hours. The tickets weren’t cheap but hey I don’t have much of a social life so duly booked I felt I had to attend.

I scooted into town and arrived just in the nick of time – People were getting comfy on the floor on mats, resting tired heads on pillows and snuggling in under cosy blankets. Mock candles set the scene (I know real would have been better but with that many soft furnishing health and safety would have run wild). Once everyone was in, an ethereal looking woman introduced herself and the cellist sat in the centre of our rudimentary circle of beds. She asked us to sit up for the first part and the cellist played a short piece to allow us to “land’ physically in the room – in the present moment. As it was a concert hall, albeit a small one the acoustics were wonderful. Right from the get go I was totally entranced and my solar plexus chimed beautifully with the notes that flowed elegantly round the room. My whole body sighed and I was so glad I’d made the effort to be here. We were then invited to lie down and relax. A series of music was played ranging from solo cellist, piano, singing and a combination of all three. The music just washed over me – I went somewhere else in my mind and I’ve no idea where it was. It was as if a hidden doorway had unlocked somehow and I was gently led into a secret garden by fairies. I had no concept of time, no annoying thoughts washing round my brain, just stillness. A deep, beautiful stillness and a sense of peace which I carried with me throughout the day and beyond.

About an hour and 45 mins later (this was a shock because I can get bored easily), the organiser said we were about to hear the last piece from the cellist and invited us to sit up to bring us back into the room. So, I hauled myself from my secret inner garden sanctuary and tuned into my surroundings, watching the cellist lose himself in his art while I bathed in his harmonic glow.

It was a strangely collective yet solitary affair. I had gone alone, spoken to hardly anyone and been lost in myself throughout. When I walked back through town to the train station I felt like I was walking in a protective bubble of sorts. Like I was untouchable by the life around me. Town was busy on an early Sunday afternoon but I wisped through the crowds like a magic spirit and had no fear or irritation. I sensed I was still partly somewhere else and I was happy to be half in and half out of this liminal space.

The rest of my day continued to gently move peacefully, with no agenda or purpose – I was just in flow and it really was the loveliest place to be.

And to bring this full circle and back to writing. I notice poetry does this to me too. It’s in a smaller way because the time is shorter and I’m not as fully immersed in them as I was at the concert. But I scroll Substack, I may see a word or an image that draws me in, and suddenly a sentence, a metaphor or an analogy lands and opens a different doorway to my inner landscape. And I learn a little bit more about who I am, what hurts me, what moves me, what I desire, what scares me and many, many other emotions.

So Cello and Poetry though very different, have the power to make me feel fully alive and the quiet calm that arises within, well that really is quite magical.

Spotify Playlist:

Just in case you are interested here are 2 tracks from the Lie Down and Listen event followed by a few songs that always give me the shivers or hit that sweet spot in my solar plexus. I’d love to know if you have any special songs that do that to you. Please leave a note in the comments.

1. Passagio – Einaudi by Lavinia (from Lie Down and Listen)

2. Cello Suite No 1 in G Major by Johann Sebastian Bach (from Lie Down and Listen)

3. The Loneliness of a Tower Crane Driver – Elbow. “Send up a prayer in my name” at 3:43 minutes

4. ur so pretty by Wasia Project, “Please don’t leave me” – the discord of the note 1.11 minutes

5. I can’t hear it now. Freya Ridings. The chorus “But I can’t hear it now”. Cello.. then her final chorus 2.00 minutes,

6. This Woman’s Work – Kate Bush – First 30 seconds gets me every time.

7. She used to be mine– Sara Bareilles – beautiful song but the note at 3 minutes and beyond.

8. Golden Slumbers – The Beatles – The Strings at the start, Paul McCartney’s cracked voice in the middle. And the strings at the end too!