The Search

You’re mentally at the top of the mountain. Why not see what night brings? You spin up Modest Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain,” and before you even lean back, you’re caught up in a whirlwind of music.

Imagined stars peek from behind dark clouds above you. The cool night air feels invigorating as you climb off the boulder you had been resting on. The night feels alive as the music surges with dramatic chaos. Like middle school but with more brass.

There’s a hint of danger lurking in the music. You search the treeline, expecting witches, or monsters, or internet trolls, but there’s nothing out there.

Alone on this mountain, winds whipping, you turn inward to finally face the storm that’s been growing within. Doubts creep in. Your decisions haunt you. “How did I get here?,” you wonder. “Have I taken the right path? Where am I heading?”

These questions crash into your mind-made mountain. The pain of loss, of wandering, of faith, knocks you down to your knees. It’s just questions, just a voice in your head, but it’s overpowering. There are too many voices in your head replaying every misstep and mistake.

The chaos grows musically, and you can’t take it anymore. You reach for the headphones and throw them across the room, just as the musical storm surges and breaks.

You sit in silence.

From outside, a distant rumble of thunder in the night brings you back to the real world. Looking out the window, you see yourself reflected in the glass. You turn for the headphones.

Do you take a detour to the sea with Debussy’s “La Mer?”

or

Get lost in the city with Gershwin’s “An American in Paris?”