A Different Form of Communication

A Personal Essay by Candice Boren

Alone, I feel it; with others, I see it. The gleam in their eyes when they recognize the opening chord. The smile that eases its way across faces. “Oh yes!” someone exclaims. “I love this song!” sighs another. I feel the joy myself, creeping its way into my heart that so often feels empty.

It starts with unzipping the case, pulling it out by the neck. The light shines off its polished surface, drawing my eye to the dark red that fades to black the further from the center they travel. The wood is smooth, gliding under my hand. I sit with my legs spread apart; on my bed, on a chair, on the couch, on the floor. I clip the tuner to the head, turning it to face me. A little bar appears at the bottom left of the screen when I hit the on button. I pluck the rough string; the lowest one, E.
The screen lights up, yellow bars filling the left side. Shifting, I turn the bottom left peg, watching the number of bars increase; yellow, yellow, green in the center, then a red bar. I went too far. Twisting the other way a fraction, I repeatedly plucking the string to keep the sound going. Finally, green. I pluck a few times; the green stays in place. Spreading my hand across all the strings, I stop the sound short, leaving only the echo of the note behind to fade away. I release and start again with the second string; the A string. The bars move back and forth, I twist and turn. Again with the D string, the G, B, E. Back and forth, twist and turn, then settle. In tune.


I strum. The sound of the six strings rings through the air, dancing around each other before molding together in one harmonious sound. Down, Down-Up, Up-Down. The pattern comes naturally, flowing off my fingers as if they were designed for such movement. My left hand moves along the neck, forming the chords necessary. G, D, A7. My fingers feel their way along the neck, shifting from string to string, stretching and reaching for the proper positions. I close my eyes and allow my fingers to do their work: Down, Down-Up, Up-Down; feeling, reaching, stretching. The music carries me away. It swirls in my mind, entering one ear, dancing through every nerve and cell in my body. Down to the farthest point of my toes, back up to my heart, where it flutters for a while before making its way back out the other ear and off into the air, where it may bless another soul with its beauty.


Pain. I feel it forming in the tips of my fingers. I pull my left hand away, rubbing my pointer, middle, and ring finger with my thumb. I place my fingers back on the strings, feeling them press into my fingers again. The pain isn’t a problem; rather it is invited. It is proof of hard work, a small price to pay for the magic that is released with the music. I see that magic at play when others are in the room. Alone, I feel it; with others, I see it. The gleam in their eyes when they recognize the opening chord. The smile that eases its way across faces. “Oh yes!” someone exclaims. “I love this song!” sighs another. I feel the joy myself, creeping its way into my heart that so often feels empty.


In my living room, lyrics escape from multiple lips at once, male and female alike, all of them friends, each singing in their own way, to the sound in their own heart. The words express all kinds of emotions, from joy, to sorrow, to the doubt that is often trapped in the deepest parts of a soul. It is all released, allowed to flow from the heart up through the throat and out the mouth in a way speaking could never capture. It brings feelings to life, makes them relatable to all. I send my feelings their way, translating what I feel in a way I never could before. In return, their feelings flow to me, filling the void I had left open and available. How this works I will never know. But it does, and while it does I will use that as the prime form of communication. I will endure the pain, the strings, stretch, reach. I will continue to move my hand up and down, down and up. I will feel the music dance within me while alone until I am ready to share it, to express the feelings I have kept inside. I will continue to find joy in the light in others eyes as they recognize that first chord. Continue to hear their exclamations of joy and love. I will pour my heart and soul out to them. I will leave myself open to receive what they pour out. I will continue this exchange; mending hearts, relieving pain, improving lives. I will serve the music as the music serves us.


In tune, feel, reach, stretch, down, down-up, up-down, open, release, accept, bless, heal, serve.