I don't believe that I would survive without music. Not just listening to music, but if I was not allowed to sing, if all tunes, lyrics, rhythms and melodies were banned from my head, not only would I have a huge amount of extra room in my head, but I fear I would become rather listless (Lacking energy or disinclined to exert effort; lethargic) about life in general.
If I were to try and recall a day when I did not have a song of some genre in my head, I don't believe that I would be successful. For some reason, this seems like an extremely good thing. Mind you, when a song (such as My front porch lookin in, or Green Eggs and Ham) becomes so firmly lodged in that it maintains its position for more than a week and a half, I become more than a little irritated.
It seems to me that music can express nearly everything that needs to be expressed. Even the classical pieces--sometimes especially the classical pieces-- can convey emotions or expressions the way that no cliche phrase can, the way that no articulation of words could ever hope to. Pieces such as 1812 Overture, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, Marriage of Figaro.... Very common, very familiar, and yet such stories inside the music! I'm not a great connoisseur of classical music, most people will agree with me on that. I like the cliche songs as much as the next uneducated music lover -- I am, and will forever be, a fan of Pachabelle's Canon in D. Why? I think that its simplicity is beautiful, and I have extremely fond memories of hearing it as a child. I'm quite sure that to play it is to embrace monotony, but I'm ok with that.
Through spending much time at the Goheen house in early summer, my knowledge of music, in generally, has been expanded greatly. Not that I remember the composers and the difference between an air and a saraband, but to experience music with people who have such a passion for it is truly an amazing experience. I always thought that I was quite a musical person, and that the house in which I grew up was fairly musically literate. I'm not quite sure that I believe that anymore. I was brought up with a significant measure of appreciation and love for it, though, and I feel really blessed by that. However, I have been very humbled in the extent of my passion and knowledge of music.
Despite this realization, music is still one of the most important ingredients of my life. Have you ever noticed the difference between waking up to that infernally beeping or buzzing of the alarm and hearing a song or music of some sort as the alarm goes off? What could be better than starting the day off with a song? Much to my various housemates' dismay, at times, most of the time that I spend sitting in the living room or walking around the house is spent singing or humming or whistling.
I do try to keep it to myself as much as possible because if I had to listen to me sing all the time I would most likely go crazy as well. But if I had to cut music out of my life entirely? Have you ever tried watching a movie that has no soundtrack? (Canadian producers seem to be in favour of this method of making movies...) It removes a whole dimension from the story. It cheapens the quality. I can't imagine what it would do to my life.