There’s no comfort quite like music, no solace like the swirling galaxies of sound that pour out of headphones on days when clouds and business threaten to suffocate the life out of us. Nor is there a better companion than a sprightly tune to match the joy of a sunny day when more things seem to fall into place. (When the coffee delivery guy brings a new batch of your favorite brew or you have good conversation with co-workers). While the Avett Brothers muse about the human experience, my eyes dart across charts and policies. And Delta Spirit wakes up my heart again (not to mention keeping my eyes open) right after coffee has worn off. I’m more grateful than words can say for my job–it gives a sense of purpose and momentum when I’m drawn to despair, mostly in the practical sense of having financial stability. But I’m equally grateful for undercurrents of art to color the hours.
Because even if we’re not actively creating, it’s a gift to participate with those who are. I tend to downplay listening as superficial involvement in the creative process. But when I rest in where God has me right now and work diligently, seeking to learn more day by day, I start to realize even if my position’s not as satisfying as the one holding the guitar, listening matters, too.