This week, either as a writer, human or otherwise, has been a terrible week. Let me EXPAND…
Perhaps it has to do with Ophelia, the potential wife of the doomed Hamlet as well as the name for the most recent storm which descended on the British Isles. Ophelia brought with her the end of the world, or, a red sun casting a sepia hue over the murk of Kent. This apparently was caused by Saharan sand picked up from the Southerly winds, and the fires raging in Portugal. Sand in the air and hellish fires burning do not paint a picture of a world at peace with itself.
Ophelia also caused animals to behave in peculiar ways; including birds flying around disorientated. It is this reaction to the storm that has got me thinking that perhaps such atmospheric conditions affect our behaviours and has contributed towards a negative week.
I have also succeeded in being ill, which is something I rarely aspire to. Our bodies and minds are very powerful, far more than we care to know, and it is not uncommon for our minds and bodies to conspire to sabotage ourselves in order to prevent an outcome. Doctors and the such would give medicines for those with a cold or other ailment, but if you know that you have caused this then would you need to take medicine to cure it? Or maybe you could just switch the way that you are thinking.
You go in with a negative mind to successfully predict a negative outcome. Congratulations, you are right!
My conscious brain will not take responsibility for being unwell, nor for the negative emotions that being unwell brings. Yet, it is the fault of the conscious brain, and it has prevented me from moving a few steps closer towards my ultimate outcome; thus successfully predicting that it is all a waste of time and is simply a dream which can never be realised.
Thanks conscious brain, you really are a piece of unwanted shit.
My subconscious brain, when the shitty one steps aside, realises this.
Illness is created by negative thoughts and subsequently creates negative thoughts, pushing you into a vicious circle to which the only person who can climb out from this is you. YOU must then create tactics to combat yourself.
It is while this is going on that I turn to John Williams; not the guitarist, but the composer, famous for Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Superman and to a lesser extent Home Alone. Many years ago, as a sprightly and innocent ten year old, I was taken to see E.T. at my local Classic. Following on from that harrowing experience of loss, I purchased the 7” single of the theme tune in what turned out to be the first ever single I purchased myself. Needless to say I will not be calling BBC Radio 6 Music to let them know my first single. It is fast becoming apparent to me however that it is by listening to this particular piece of music where my brain turns the corner and begins to fight back. It is a very dramatic and moving soundtrack, with some stirring strings and deafening horns, and it is just the medicine that agrees with me. I don’t know why, but I have just spent the last ten minutes listening to it and I feel much better than I did ten minutes before.
Music therefore is magic. Those who create music, whatever genre, are magicians. In a world where heroes either wear team colours or suits, we should remember that true heroes protect and create. Our heroes should not be the richest people on the planet, but the ones who can gift YOU life; those people are soldiers, medics, fire & police, composers and artists (and any more I may have missed who actually gift the human race with something not for their own agenda).
Let me ask, what music saves you when you are having a shit time? Think about its effect and the emotion that comes from it.
From a bad week to one of gentle melancholy. I have succeeded in allowing my ten year old self to give me a gift that I can carry for the journey forwards. That little person always sits in you, it deserves some respect.
Zac Thraves is a storyteller and writer living in Kent; please contact if, you so wish, on email@example.com