I am overcome with awe at the deep compassion and love of our fellow beings show even when living through their own hardships.

I become overwhelmed with tears wishing I could give more than advice from my own experiences.

The deepest form of true love is having compassion for another and at least trying to understand and help them realize they are not alone.

The capacity we all have depends upon how much we can trust each other.

I have deep gratitude to the Dali Lama for promoting peace and harmony, also proving these aren’t weakness.

Music is a river. It pushes me along, keeps me afloat, and always shows me something new. Melodies have been a constant in my life.

My mother is a singer. Growing up I would trail after her though weddings or funerals. I would wait in the back, quiet in my seat, watching as her voice brought people to tears. To this day I am in awe of her. I can feel the music pour from her soul, and I feel it in mine.

I began playing the piano in the first grade, the notes flowed through my fingers and into the air. Suddenly, I was the one creating the music I so desperately loved. I will always be in awe of the piano, a strong and timeless vessel of music.

The world has changed so much with the advances of technology. One of my favorite advantages of this new world is our endless access to music. At any moment of the day I can listen to any melody I desire. Songs that move me, I sit with my headphones in and chills pour over me.

So, I think the greatest reverence is music. Music is primal, necessary, joyful, sad, dramatic, full, it is what brings us all together.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Buzz. Buzz…

My eyes are so easy downcast, mesmerized

by that ever humming, lit-up screen that constantly begs for my attention.

Yet most times I surrender to it,

it leaves me bored, dissatisfied, annoyed…

Instead, when I step away and really look up, and am fully PRESENT…

I am amazed, in awe at the beauty all around:

those every day sights and sounds

that pull me in and fill me with wonder.

Beauty unfolds each morning

when I get up early enough to pause

at the stream on my way to work,

when sunbeams sleekly wrap around the grassy hillsides

with streaking ribbons of light.

Beauty unleashes from intricate designs

on the grand old granite buildings in old town

in a child’s sketchbook of thick lines and vibrant scribbles,

from the bold maroon and cerulean muraled faces

on the wall of a nail salon.

Beauty surges

from the strength of many voices

chorusing harmoniously as one civil rights song

that still rings true,

from the calming swirl of chords in

an age-old symphony that

blows through horns, pipes,

and exhilarant bows upon

stringed wooden instruments.

Beauty rises from

each pair of hands

that write, carve, sculpt,

clap, and play

each with their own hues

and grooves and fingerprints.

Beauty gushes

from a delicate infant

cradled in its family’s arms

experiencing life and love

for the first time.

Beauty connects us

through affectionate hugs from friends

who know our joys and sorrows alike,

from the insightful words of an elder

who passes on hope and encouragement

to a young one lacking confidence.

Beauty flows

from those sacred moments

we daringly let others into the

vulnerabilities of our hearts,

from fits of uncontainable, side-stitching giggles,

from tears of solidarity and empathy

shed with friends in times of sorrow.

Beauty is carved into our hearts

And woven into the universe…

Let’s take a moment

to pause and breathe deeply

of the beauty

All around us!

Music saves me.

It did many times when I was younger,

Me sitting on the bathroom floor trying not to think about how much easier it would be to not be

And the sounds of Tyler and Joseph by my side to remind me I am not as mad as I seem to be.

I remember the day I locked myself up in my father's room.

Contemplating.

Plan in place.

It would have been so cruel to do it there, leave him with no answers

But like most suicidal people, all I wanted was for the pain to stop.

I was blinded by it, nothing else mattered more.

I couldn't see any other way.

But I didn't want to die.

No one necessarily wants to die.

If life were kinder, people too, it might not be so.

If we were taught how important it is to listen to and respect one's own self,

Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad.

But life is a mess by nature, like the rest of the chaos of the world.

And I didn't understand then that it was possible to not hate myself so much.

It's weird, the things that make me stop in moments like those.

A lot less frequent now but it slips by when I'm in scrapes, a little temptation from some curious, unseen onlooker

That day in particular, all I had to do was close my eyes and let it overtake my senses.

Before You Start Your Day by Twenty-Øne Pilots began to play.

His voice was... Comfort.

It was peace for a wounded soul.

I did a little shitty ballet in the quietness of the room.

I cried.

And I left.

I don't tell this story because I'm trying to pull any pity.

We're all mad here, living in a world like this.

I'm starting to understand that in that regard, I could never be alone.

I just don't know any other way to describe the kind of hold music has on me.

Whether to save,

Or to destroy,

Bringing me back from the edge reborn everytime.

It's the flickering, guiding light of a candle in a world of gray and darkness.

Sometimes,

Nearing a panic attack over one of the many fragile things that bother my existence,

Nothing else can soothe me

But that otherworldly magic.

Maybe it's a crutch

Like my sister believes.

Going to it so fluidly with no expectations, just the hope that the sounds I find may come to my aid

But isn't that what people do with their gods, anyway?

And if I can find something a little closer to my fingers than a silent deity, well, I think it's best to be grateful for the existence of the mad men that create such artistry and

Leave it at that.

Don't you?