A Quiet Beginning
It’s been over two years since I last wrote here, and much has changed—some of it challenging, some transformative. The road back to creativity was anything but smooth. For a long time, I felt no spark at all. Days blurred into weeks, and I was simply going through the motions.
Yet, in my hardest moments, there was music. It asked nothing of me—no effort, no action—just a steady, familiar presence reminding me of who I was before life felt so heavy. Music became my first therapy, the first step on a path back to myself.
The Healing Rhythm of Music
Music has always been in my soul. It wasn’t always the words that resonated, but the rhythm, the beat, or the melody. Some days, a new song felt like a spark of hope. Other days, I turned to songs that carried me back to simpler, happier times.
During my darkest days, my favorite genres reflected my needs. Chill electronic music offered calm. House music, with its bursts of energy, reminded me of movement and life. Jazz brought timeless beauty and comfort. Each genre became a lifeline, connecting me to the version of myself I thought I’d lost.
Music as Familiarity in Unfamiliar Times
Music never asked more than I could give. Whether I was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, or just getting through the day, it was there. It reminded me of who I used to be and, in its quiet way, began to guide me toward healing.
Looking back, I see music as the foundation of my journey. It wasn’t just a distraction—it was the first step in finding myself again, allowing me to feel without words and move forward without a plan.
Slowly, as I regained my footing, creativity returned. Photography and other forms of artistic expression found their way back into my life, though it took time and patience.
Anchors in the Darkness
During those quiet moments, I often turned to a photograph I’d taken of McWay Falls in Big Sur. Its cascading water and serene coastal view became a visual anchor—a place of peace I could return to whenever I needed to steady myself. Even imagining that scene brought calm.
As I moved through those dark days and nights, I also thought of another photograph I took in downtown Milwaukee. The tangled bridges crossing the Milwaukee River may seem chaotic, but each leads to a distinct destination. Even at night, the lights illuminate every path, guiding travelers.
In many ways, those crossings mirrored my journey—navigating through the dark, searching for balance and direction. At times, it felt confusing. But I held on to the hope that, like those lights, something would guide me toward where I needed to go.
Call to Reflection
If you’re feeling lost, I encourage you to find something familiar to ground you. Maybe it’s music, as it was for me. Maybe it’s a favorite book, a long walk, or a quiet moment with a cup of tea. Healing doesn’t come in big leaps—it begins with small, steady steps.
Music was my first step. What’s yours?
Did this post resonate with you? Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or pass it along to someone who might find it meaningful. You can also check out my previous post, Photography as a Journey to Healing.
Absolutely beautiful and inspiring. I am so happy for you that you are finding your way back to you.