Morning coffee and toast with Pachelbel's Canon in D
(Photo credits: @marty_dzed on Instagram)
The first time this song called out to me, you know, actually spoke to me, I remember I was sitting in my school hall in a circle of 10. I was Secondary One, or 13 years old. We were having one of those what I would call, unusual holistic school programmes. This one was about retraining the mind and meditation. It was accompanied by music. And when Canon in D played on the loudspeaker, I was arrested by the sheer joy of the melody. It might be one of those pieces that have been played to death and utterly scorned in the proper classical circles, but to the classically illiterate as I was, it was a piece from heaven!
Something about the simplicity of its repeated notes, basso continuo, makes it so easy for the average person to connect to. There is no embellishment, none whatsoever. In its place are simple chord progressions that one can easily follow. It is not a piece that shouts, “I am here! Hear me roar”. It is a delicately arresting piece of music who is happy being itself; joyful and exulted.
I love getting lost in happiness and joy everyday. In at that particular moment more than twenty years ago, when it fell on my ears for the first time, I was utterly lost to it.
Can it be said that our tastes in music reflect our attitudes towards life? There is a certain sense of surrender of arrogance at the appreciation of simplicity. We let our stuffy expectations go. Most of us are full of so many of them. We have to or we can’t truly appreciate simplicity; of life, of love and of the moment.
While I sat at in the circle that day, the teacher said to us, “Whoever thinks they are a leader, stand up”. Clearly no one was thick-skinned enough to do so and risk ridicule, not even I. And who at Secondary One has such developed and grounded concept of self in the world anyway? I thought I might be, but I was uncertain. Just as I pondered that, my teacher came up behind me to ruffle the back of my hair and told me to stand up.
She said one word, “You”. There was no fanfare, just the word, “you”. Just like the music, simple and as-is. And so I stood up, bare and naked to all judgement. Naked and without pomp, just me and my confusing jumble of emotions.
What did my friends think? I had no idea because I was lost in the music of Pachelbel; the captivatingly repeating notes of violins and bass, layered one on top of the other, the texture so rich, but the notes so simple. I was lost in the joy of the music, blended together with my nervousness. I was swirling around in exciting possibilities of life as I became aware, for the very first time, what the world thought about me. I don’t remember where it started or where it ended. I was one with the world.
Is there anything more delightful than that in life?
It seems my teachers knew what song to pick. Pachelbel Canon in D. A song so simple, it spoke to the heart of a thirteen year old girl, inexperienced but eager, sitting at the edge of the world looking in and wondering about the joys that were there for the picking. Pachelbel did a great service to the world; his piece a call to simplicity and a reminder that all the best things in life are simple and free.
And even after having gone through all the fanfare that life has to offer, including listening to pieces of glorious and proud classical music at opera houses around the world, I still hark back fondly to that day when Canon in D first played in my humble school music hall, the stuffy smell of sweaty students and the ruffle of my teacher’s fingers on my hair.
These days, I occasionally listen to my Canon in D when having morning toast with a steaming cup of hot coffee. Bonus if it was at a nice quiet cafe. It is a reminder to me not to forget the simple things. Could life be so uncomplicated; just layers upon layers of delightful beats? Mmm...
Some things are simply irreplaceable in life.