Well hey there! Brooks here. Ya know, the guy that sings Seventeen and First Time? Whether that's how you know me or you're my grandmother (Hey Grandma), I'm glad that you're here.
Blogging and writing in general has always been something I've enjoyed but haven't gotten around to consistently. But I've been thinking - life is short and the only thing I'm going to leave behind is my love and word. So here goes both:
First off, I'd like to address the elephant in the room. Why does this singer think anyone should listen to what he has to say about the world? Just sing. Fair enough. But here's how I see it: People have always had their thing, the profession or public persona everyone knows them for. 200 years ago, the village doctor was probably called 'The Doc' instead of his actual name. Let's call him Jerry. But at the end of the day, Jerry was a guy, and he probably had a lot to say. Don't we all?
So feel free to call me Brooks Huntley, the Seventeen guy. But also, if you feel like it, stick around and see what I have to say around here. It might be fun! Anyway, here's what's been on my mind:
Life is really pretty amazing when you zoom out a little. It's a symphony of stories all happening simultaneously, clashing for a moment and then resolving at the last second. Just like a great piece of music, life gives you just enough of what you want to keep you in it, but just enough of what you don't expect to frustrate and confuse you.
But a lot of people get caught up in the chaos of a diminished chord in their lives (for those of you who don't know much about music, a diminished chord is basically a minor chord, but even more minor-ish and dark). Diminished chords on their own sound kinda bad. They don't have that satisfying triad of harmony we're used to with your standard major or minor chord. If someone wrote a song (or lived a life) with only diminished chords, it would be a bad song. However, when you use a diminished chord to connect a good idea to another good idea, it can add magical emotions the likes of which nothing other than that big fat ugly chord could.
If that's not an analogy for a beautiful life, I don't know what is. The problem many people encounter though is this: when their life's piano strikes a powerful diminished chord, they pause the song in panic thinking, Oh no! It's all ruined. I hit all the wrong notes!
Just before the beautiful payoff, the tension and release that moment in their life was queuing up, they pause the song and never let it play again. And they live the rest of their life unresolved and afraid. I did this countless times. Every time my life struck a chord I didn't understand, I would shrug my shoulders in shame, pause my song before the resolve and chalk it up to a loss.
An alternative to this approach is that people set up their lives in such a way that there's no way any unexpected chords could be played. Those people then wonder why a life of G, D, and C chords doesn't feel significant or interesting. There's nothing wrong with G, D, and C. But believe me, if that's all the music there was, you'd get bored of it in a New York Minute.
So what do we make of all this? I think it's simple: Let your song play out. See where it goes. The most precious thing you have in your life is your sense of wonder. So when you're tempted to pause your song, collect your thoughts and try to make the next 'right move', try pushing instead toward what inspires the most wonder. And often, that's going to be a giant ugly diminished chord that won't make sense until much later when it resolves. Do it anyway.
There is no mistake, no wrong chord so bad that playing it would be worse than living a whole life without music altogether. If you offered me the choice between only my least favorite genre of music existing or no music at all, I'd gladly take my least favorite genre; I'd learn to love it. Far too many people opt out of the music they don't expect in life and receive a music-less, silent and predictable life in exchange.
Don't be scared to mess up the notes. Be afraid only of the music stopping.