Illustration: The Magazine of Yoga™

Real Life is Real Yoga

Music is, in my humble opinion, essential to human life.
Why do we use it to cut ourselves off?

BY MAGAZINE COLUMNIST EMMANUELLE LAMBERT

Oh what a gorgeous spring day! Despite everything that’s been going on lately in the world, the season cycle is still very much up and running. The world must go on, and it does pretty much without us. 

Still, what to do on such a beautiful day? I chose to enjoy the sun going for a run. Yes, that’s right, I am also a runner. What can I say, full moon energy maybe? I tried a small experiment I’ve been wanting to do for ages but somehow always shied away from: I went running without music in my ears.
 
Until this morning, I always used music in my running routine, or ritual if you wish. I figured it would give me the extra boost I needed to go out and keep going when I was out of breath if ever, pushing me for as long as I set out to run. Music was a key element in my first – and only – race, as I prepared my play list very carefully (and ran faster than I thought I would).
 
On top of this, I started running again this week after almost three no-run weeks, and trust me, it was hard. I mean, haaaard.

So why on earth would I choose to run without music? And why on earth would I choose to write about a no-music experiment in a music column?

No-music

The answer is simple and straightforward: I chose to do something new to experiment something new. I chose to write about it because I learned something new.
 
No music in my ears didn’t mean complete silence. People walking and making the most of a lovely day, going to pick up their baguette for the family lunch. Cars on the road, impatient drivers, loud horns. Birds chirping and singing in quieter areas.

Oh no, no silence in there, just the sound of life in a residential area of the European capital. That was the music I ran to. For a while.
 
Because then something else happened: I heard myself, creating my running music. For the first time, I could hear myself breathing. Heavily, quickly, but regularly. The pace of my breathing matched the pace of my running. Pounding and stumping on the pavement, heavily, quickly, regularly. 
 
I created my own music by the sheer act of running. My activity became my music and the soundtrack to this very activity. The loop was hypnotic, enthralling, and I got lost in my own rhythm.

Territory of one

We are so often surrounded by noise, have never had easier access to music, thanks to Youtube, Dailymotion, portable mp3 (or whatever format) players. We have the possibility to download, live stream, listen to music, anywhere and everywhere. On the bus, tram, tube, how often do we actually see people without ear or headphones?

How often do we tap into our own energy to compose our own rhythm?
 
As much as music is, in my humble opinion, essential to human life as we know it, I feel that sometimes, we use music to shun ourselves from the rest of the world, connected and disconnected at the same time.

There is a fine line between connecting to the world through music, and actually using it as a shield to protect us from something we don’t understand, or that looks dangerous and scary. But maybe the scariest looking thing is not what we fear most.
 
So why not try something new, something different for once?

Connected to breath, connected to now

We yoga students and teachers are keen advocates of self care and listening to ourselves, to what our body tells us. Yet we speak most of the time figuratively. We go insofar as to listen to the breath and keep the prana flow.

But you can go further, and try to really really listen to the sound you make as you move, to the pattern and rhythm that suddenly emerge, to the song you’re singing and the soundtrack you are composing.

It is such a powerful means of connecting to what you are doing right now, maybe that’s why it can be overwhelming and scary, as scary at looking at yourself in the mirror.
 
This morning, as I listened to my own running soundtrack, I was present – not dwelling on the past, not projecting myself in the future, or even tomorrow. I was right here, right now, hic et nunc. My breath was even, my pace was regular, and I deeply enjoyed my run, more than ever.
 
Oh, and by the way, I ran faster than I thought I would. Faster than ever. 

Find Emmanuelle here on The Magazine every month in Music Matters. But don’t lose touch with her great style of living real – read her smart, hip and honest blog Plans on a Comet.

© 2011, The Magazine of Yoga, LLC.