Songs that Pull Us Inward

As the days get shorter and chillier, the month of October starts to draw me inward like an internal warm glow of a lighthouse.  It feels good to put on my autumn sweater and cozy socks, to indulge in a spicy warm tea and to listen to the music that makes me more reflective.  This morning I am listening to the sweet jazzy sound of Ain’t Nobody’s Business by Willie Nelson and Wynton Marsalis, a collaboration introduced to me by my son.   Samuel is an old soul in a 16 year old body and I am constantly finding myself  intrigued by the soundtrack to his life.    The song keeps my toes tapping as I intermittently take sips of my coffee, stare out the window at the yellow aspen leaves shimmering like wet fans in the wind and type a few more words.   It’s a deliciously slow pursuit.  

October opens itself up like this, a slow unraveling.  As a girl from Maine living in California, I feel a sense of relief on these blustery gray days.  I mean how many sunny days am I meant to endure before I am finally given permission to cozy up inside?  As a kid, I was never allowed to play inside if it was nice out.  Those lessons are hard wired in my brain and it is exhausting in sunny California.  By October, I relish in crafty days that unfold like long dreamy swaths of time, indulging my yearnings to take a deep dive inwardly.  At the moment, I am contemplating finishing this piece of writing, working on my puzzle, finishing the patchwork scarf I’ve been knitting, pulling out the quilt I started sewing during COVID 5 years ago, decluttering my closet and drawers, painting in my art journal, playing piano or guitar or starting a fire and reading my book.  I get excited by home days.  How can I enjoy everything all at once?    It feels perfectly indulgent to attempt to do all of these activities even though I know by the end of the day I will probably have only gotten to one or two.  

There is a perfect sound track for this kind of day.  I mentioned the Bluesy Jazz album that is fueling the soundtrack to this piece of writing.  This genre is perfect for a rainy October day.  Just try not to feel reflective and moody as the sounds of Chet Baker croon some autumnal woes in September Song, or as the Oscar Peterson trio plays Georgia on Mind like tiny little footsteps dancing across the keys.  I feel understood by these songs. They know my adoration for gloomy days.  But the sound that really captures my autumnal blues are the nostalgic and mournful notes from Mile Davis in It Never Entered my Mind.    There is a feeling of heartfelt regret in that forgetfulness.  I don’t know what I have forgotten, but I am sure it was something important.