At the tender age of 14 I fell in love.
It remains the kind of love that has lasted a lifetime. One of those first loves that can never be forgotten.
He was a spiky haired blonde punk with a falsetto voice, some mean reggae beats and a thumping baseline (and no, dear readers, this is not a metaphor)!
He was a poet, a dreamer, a love lorn romantic in tight leather pants.
Sigh….. this one was probably the love of my life.
He sang of cryptic messages found in cast off bottles and aged prostitutes who walked the streets under their red lights. He spoke to me of finding love walking on the moon and stalking lost loves simply through the act of watching them breathe.
He tortured me as the king of pain and I loved him all the more for it.
When he left me to pursue his own path I wept. I was desolate. His words had sustained me through those tortuous teenage years and he had left me bereft. They spoke to me as none had done before.
Sounds like a sweeping Bronte epic doesn’t it? Alas, his name wasn’t Heathcliff or Mr Darcy. He wasn’t my brooding Irishman Aidan (aka Ross Poldark) or a potent Leonardo De Caprio. He didn’t even use his real name as it was far too benign for his intensity, preferring a sharpish nom de plume to hide behind.
When The Police broke up I despaired. How and when would I hear more words from my beloved Sting. The words that had sustained me as a moody youth.
Yes he went on to have a solo career that I followed with equal passion and the poetry remained, particularly in the early days. There were some moments of sheer brilliance in those solo albums and I believed that he had returned with more clarity and depth than this tender hearted romantic could bear.
Yet for some reason that only the echo of moody youth can understand, it was the music from his Police era that kept coming back to inspire me.
Their last gloriously named album (vinyl of course) was called Synchronicity and its titular track has recently come back to provide me with sustenance. Witness these lyrics:
With one breath, with one flow, you will know, Synchronicity.
A connecting principle, linked to the invisible, almost imperceptible, something inexpressible, science insusceptible, logic so inflexible, causally connectible, yet nothing is invincible.
I didn’t realise it at the time, moody teenager that I was, yet Sting’s lyrics were laying down the foundations for future Kylie. They spoke to me of the inexplicable flow of the universe and the need to trust in yourself to allow that flow to penetrate your life and guide you to living the best life you can.
They remain a glorious reminder of the interconnectedness of the world and the surprise connections that influence and support us. I’ve written before of the joys of being in the flow, and the bounty that awaits when you commit to living in this state. There is some powerful neuroscience behind this as well, primarily based on our ability to quieten the limbic system and it’s function in maintaining us in a constant state of alertness.
Meditation and other mindfulness practices help with this and I certainly do this on a regular basis.
But there is something to be said for the power of music to produce this state as well. Memories such as these remain one of my favourite tools and I’m so grateful for the talented people who inspire me to get in the flow.
Hmmmm, if you see a curly headed woman in a red car singing at the top of her lungs this afternoon, look away people, nothing to see here!