An Interaction With Something Grand

I read recently somewhere that as a person makes a major worldview change, their artistic tastes will follow suit. Maybe not immediately, but gradually, over time, the person will shift in their aesthetic interests. Through their art, artists recreate the world as they see it, including at the very core of their work their own personal opinions (whether consciously known or not) on metaphysics. 

I posed a question in the Secret Message Society Zine last month which was alluding to a similar topic:

Hashtags are a tool used to connect people in social circles around common interests and if you gradually shift your hashtags due to your shift in worldview, you may just find yourself surrounded by a completely different group of people. 

Over the weekend I had some time to myself one evening, and so I returned home with some Thai food and turned on the actual radio (not spotify or pandora, or google play, etc.) in my home to a classical station. I had found this radio station earlier in the week while scanning stations on my car radio. The pop station hasn't been cutting it lately. Did the music change or did I? It just isn't holding my attention.

I lit a candle and read out of two books I had just checked out of the library earlier in the day - one by O. Henry and one by Natalie Goldberg. Me and my chopsticks were at the mercy of whatever music the radio host had selected for the night, and I listened through hours of radio programming, my dog laying close beside me in the living room on his bed.

I kept thinking to myself, this is music that is big enough for me. This is music I can expand into. There is a scope here of grandeur that includes possibility and dignity and hope. I felt a lifted countenance that was more than emotion. It was something longer lasting. Something stable and resolute in the core of me. A reconfiguring of matter. A literal lifting of the chin and a softening of the corners of my mouth. The walls of my home were pushing out. The ceiling was pressing upwards. The spaces between the furniture grew vast and welcoming. My innate sense of capability was being echoed back to me and it was every bit as dramatic as life is meant to be. Score after score to honor the living, and me there, available, to bask in it.