At choir last night, it came up that one of our musicians constantly hears music in his head. Constantly. As in, it never pauses. My first thought: that’s amazing.
My second thought: how does he get anything done like that?
This guy is a prodigy. He’s been playing instruments well since he was eight, and composed a gorgeous original piece for the group to sing on Mother’s Day a few years ago when he was in high school. (It begs the question of what I did with my sophomore year of high school.) He spends most of his time practicing his musical talent in all of its various forms, including professional performances. Amidst all of this playing, singing, and composing, he also has a background of music playing in his head.
How does he do it? I would be so distracted!
At the same time, I wonder how unusual it is for people to “hear” music that isn’t playing. Most of us have experienced getting a song stuck in our heads at some point; I’d be impressed to find someone who said they never experienced this phenomenon. In contrast, this gent is the first I’ve heard of anyone constantly having music playing in his brain. (HowStuffWorks has an article about earworms that mentions endomusia, meaning it has happened before, but I found no numbers, suggesting rarity.)
Luckily for me, I tend to fall somewhere between these two. I have no idea how he can work on musical projects (especially composition!) with another tune playing in the background. Simultaneously, I find myself agitated by silence. Look this adjective up in a thesaurus to find a variety of words of distress which have plagued me at times due to an extended period of time without music. (When I was little, I even slept with the radio on.) Instead of giving in to the anxiety of silence, my brain often fills in the gaps with medleys of familiar tunes. I can direct the music to kinds permitting me to focus on the task at hand by redirecting it to audible music.
With music consistently filling many of our noggins, where does prayer fit in?
School of Silence
Just writing that made my pulse accelerate. However, many people have written about or otherwise explained to me the necessity of silence. Several have attempted to win me over to the following of silence. This is generally how our conversations tend to go:
Friend: I look forward to my moments of silence.
Me: Cool. You can have all of mine.
Friend: How do you listen to God if you don’t sit in silence?
Me: Oddly enough, I’ve never heard the audible voice of God speaking to me. I think that might scare me more than the silence itself.
Friend: But I need silence to properly pray. How do you pray without silence?
Me: With music.
Friend: That makes no sense.
Me: We probably listen to different music, then.
Friend: No music is as sweet as the voice of God.
Me: Again, never heard that audible voice; I’m kinda fine with that. It also means I can’t compare the two, so I’ll take your word for it.
Friend: You should try silence sometime. It’s great for personal growth.
Me: God may speak to everyone else through silence, but silence gives me no peace and God is capable of speaking to me through music, and He’ll meet me where I’m at.
Friend, dismissively: Kids these days – addicted to distractions.
Me: … Thanks.
I absolutely, positively believe that silence is helpful for a good relationship with God for most people. It may even be helpful for all of us, but I haven’t gotten to that point yet. It’s kinder on my brain to have white noise in the background – nature sounds, instrumentals, traffic and car noises, pop praise songs on the radio, anything – than to sit in silence.
We have to turn off the smartphone, find a quiet place and a recollected posture, and let our minds settle. If we don’t, there is no way we will be able to hear what God wants to tell us.
– Father John Bartunek, A Quiet Place
I disagree. (I concede the point about the phone; I leave mine on DND/silent mode when I need to focus. Mind settling is probably also helpful. What I contest is the quiet requirement.) Still, I find the book incredibly helpful and believe it works for Father Bartunek and the many others who have encouraged me to try silence. Maybe I’ll try it again tomorrow for five minutes, just sitting in silence and not letting my thoughts run away from me. (That’s the trick, isn’t it – not letting the thought train get away?) Currently, though, I disagree.
The Case for Prayer Music
Argument one: music can assist in focus. There is plenty of music that is uplifting, encouraging, and thought-provoking. Yes, some music is distracting, but not all of it. (The music I’m currently listening to is somewhat distracting, but there is reason for it.) I trust I’m not alone in having a mind that needs a treadmill to run on to keep it from running away, even if it’s merely simple chords.
It’s like having an extremely active child and either opting for a simple play area or tethering the kiddo to the parent: one option allows the kid to run around safely with generally just the need for a watchful eye whereas the other requires constant tugging in the proper direction.
This kind of music helps me when I can fully focus on the connecting with God. (Perfect counter example, I’m not concurrently concerned with driving; I often pray in the car.) There are a plethora of meditative playlists designed specifically to help one’s mind focus on prayer or in meditation. I’m a fan of instrumental, particularly instrumental classical or soft jazz. (Instrumental covers often find me adding the lyrics.) On the whole, the gentler the music, the better it is for assisting with focus.
Argument two: God can use music to speak to us. Have you ever had a time when just the right song came on the radio at just the right time? How did that song speak to your heart? What was it telling you? Where do you think that came from?
[Part of prayer is] searching for what God wants to say to you.
– Father John Bartunek, A Quiet Place
This tends to be where I find myself: sitting with the radio on, paying it no mind, when a song comes on that strikes me. Beyond reminding me that the radio is on, it speaks a message I’ve been needing to hear, and somehow, I know it’s for me. Sometimes, it’s joyous and I sing along; other times, it solemnly forces me to pause; still other times, I grin weakly and mull over a particular line for the rest of the day.
Argument three: music is a form of prayer. There is literally a genre of music known as praise and worship. Sometimes songs that lift my soul to the Lord enter my heart during relatively quiet moments. These pieces encourage me to sing with them, meaning every word, causing me to connect more fully with God than any words I could think to speak. When music brings us closer to God, the music itself is a form of prayer.
What is Your Experience?
Do you focus better with or without music? I find it to be personal preference; I am better with music, but my mother can’t process her thoughts well with any noise. Which way do you prefer? What is your experience with listening to music during prayer? Are you (or do you have any friends who are) naturally gifted musically with tunes ever-present in their minds? What do you think of having your own soundtrack to life? Let us know in the comments!
