An Interlude in the Series

An Interlude in the Series

“You are the bass. It’s the quietest instrument in the jazz quartet. The solo gets all the glory, but the bass holds down the root.”

“But everybody remembers the trumpet.”

“Yeah, but people who really listen, they hear the bass.”

— William to Beth in This Is Us

I do not remember exactly when it was that I felt like I needed to be heard — I don’t think I even knew what it was that I wanted to say — but at some point in the past few years, I felt a stirring, a yearning of sorts, to express myself in some way. Whether anyone heard me or not made no difference. I needed to create my music, to voice my beliefs, to give expression to the indefinable fullness of feeling welling up within me.

My tendency is to question myself and ask, “Yes, but why do you want to do this and what difference will it make?” But while whys can be important to understand, sometimes they lead us down the wrong path, because does it really matter why? We all want to be heard, seen, felt — for a myriad of reasons — whether it is the restless toddler urgently pulling on his weary mother’s hand or the lonely man tentatively caressing his reticent lover’s arm or the elderly woman regretfully reaching out to her departing daughter — we have something within us that says, “See me; hear me; feel me.” Aren’t those reasons enough for the why?

As for what difference it will make, well, it took me a while to realize that if it made a difference to me, then not only was that enough, but it was every reason in the world to continue. Sometimes, the main caregivers of the family become so accustomed to always considering everyone else and wanting what is best for them that we lose sight of the fact that the music has changed and is now calling us to perform a different part. Perhaps our role now is to harmonize with the melody, or maybe a rest has been written into our musical composition — our children have grown and do not need us as much as they once did, or we have lost a beloved spouse, or our defining career has come to an end. Now, we must consider how to be in that pause before continuing to play the music. The pause, the rest, the period of silence — it is essential to the musical composition. It allows the mind to quiet to the sounds that came before it and prepare, albeit unknowingly, for what comes next — a new rhythm or an altered tempo or a change in the dynamic.

None of the components of music asks why, nor does any of them ask what difference it makes to the whole. They — the melody, the harmony, the rhythm — know they are essential to the sound being produced; just as I am essential, and you are essential. We are essential. The music would be altered if we did not perform our parts. So, we must, even if the only people who hear us are ourselves, we must play our part or risk silencing our truth. Let’s not ask why or doubt the difference we make. Let’s simply play, and know that we, like the bass, are essential.

Thank you for being here.

Photo by Marius Masalar on Unsplash



12 thoughts on “An Interlude in the Series”

  • This is so beautiful! I love the metaphor of music that you use, especially when you point out how essential rests are. If there was noise all the time it wouldn’t be music.

    • Thank you, Em. Yes, I love the rests, and yet sometimes I have such a hard time allowing them.

  • Muffet you astound me with your beautiful writing! Yes! Everything works together for the whole. Over the years I wanted to impress others at times, or impressed them just being me. Now I’ve learned to love myself, take care of me and still send out love in different ways, and if it’s not noticed, I feel joy in my own heart, because it’s important to me to do that for others. Love you!

    • Thank you, Aunt Vickie, and thank you for sharing your thoughts. I agree – I feel like the more we can do with love, the truer we are to ourselves. And taking care of ourselves is an essential part of that. Love you!

  • Muffet…WOW! For someone else who is also going through this…THIS gave me all the feels!!! You couldn’t of said it any more perfectly. Beautiful piece, love the metaphor, love you tied it to This is Us( my absolute favorite show)!!! Love you, keep up the amazing writing ✍️ ❤️

    • Thank you so much, Genna, and thank you for commenting! It means a great deal to know that you connect with these feelings and ideas. Transitions are difficult, aren’t they? Sometimes I handle them better than other times. Love you too!

  • Love this so much, Muff. So beautifully expressed. And it’s funny that you quoted, This is Us – everyone in my family says you remind them of Rebecca❤️! Love you!!

    • Thank you, Susan! That’s so funny — the mom who wants to break out on stage! Love you too!

  • Muffet
    You are truly a gifted writer and it comes from your heart. I guess i’m the “grammy bass”, as I have lived through many of the life experiences you have so perfectly described. I see all my children (and that includes all :in-law” children) now traveling that same road. This is surely the circle of llife and we are all strong players, but you above all should be commended how you put that music to words!

    • Thank you so much, Arlene! Yes, I definitely feel you as the steady bass that brings depth and soul and love to all of us! Although, you have some pretty incredible solos in there as well! 😉 I’m so thankful for your presence and your example.

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