Do you ever wake up on a random Friday and your life up to that point feels as if it all has been a mere dazy, almost insignificant dream. As if that particular morning is the first day of the rest of your life. Many people aspire to live their lives with this mentality. For the rest of us, there is the reality of the mistakes of yesterday. Letting go of baggage is easier said than done.
While in Clinton Cards this morning (store 46 of circa 360) I heard a song and as usual, took out my phone to identify the artist and title via Shazam. I was pleasantly surprised because the in-store music policy must have recently changed. They had always played cheesy covers and for that matter poor quality versions. This was something different, something leftfield. A beautiful composition but rather than melancholy in nature, it looks to the future with boundless optimism. The title could even be the adjective many people will use to describe this date in history. Was it destiny for me to hear this song today, of all days? In fact, the song was released officially 307 days ago.
While listening to the song on repeat, while trying to complete this post I have been thinking about the probability of hearing this song today (of all days). The chances of me hearing this song anywhere else were zero. The artist is so obscure, they are on Spotify but have no Wikipedia page or even official web presence, beyond a simple Facebook page. Or digging around Spotify Artist pages I found their official Instagram. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. It was pure coincidence.
Lacking discipline means that I give songs maybe thirty seconds before making a decision to skip or save and continue listening. Sometimes I will save songs which I may only have a mediocre liking for, hoping that when I hear them later they may have grown on me or perhaps be more appropriate for a moment yet to pass.
While walking back from town in the early evening on Saturday 5th May I was listening to my Spotify saved playlist on random (they call the feature Shuffle). The song that played with me ten minutes from home was Dangerous by the Australian indie band Glades. A lyric now meant so much more than 407 days previously when released in late March last year.
The past month has been a blur. At times I have just been on autopilot going through the motions. Work, a sense of routine, has been a helpful distraction. Time, they say is a healer. When all is said and done, I have to consider myself a very fortunate individual. I suppose we should all consider ourselves fortunate. Maybe, just maybe it could be Glorious!