Music Mondays: Mid-Semester Blues

I slam my hand over the snooze button one more time. I close my eyes and breath for five minutes before the alarm goes off again. A song is humming in the back of my mind. 

Is this the new year or just another night?

I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulders. I double-check my pockets: keys, ID, phone and mask. I leave the dorm, double-checking over my shoulder that the door stayed closed behind me this time. The weight of my backpack helps propel me as I rush down the stairs. Still, the song plays. 

Is this what they call freedom?

By the time I come back to the dorm, the night has settled in. There is a light on under my roommate’s door. I slide my backpack off my shoulders and let it drop with a thud into the living room armchair. I collapse in the seat next to it. I close my eyes and think again of the song that has been haunting me all day.

Is there nothing left now? / Nothing left to sing?

My days are long, and the nights are short. I have reached that point in the semester where all my classes have piled up on each other. I am deep enough in to feel overwhelmed, but without the courtesy of knowing that I have at least made it halfway though. One month down, two and half more to go…

It’ll be a day like this one when the world caves in

It is not that I am discontent, just tired. My days are full of classes, theater and friends which are all things I love, but every night that I spend more awake than asleep is adding to the growing deficit. The weariness is piling up, a weariness that feels a little lighter when music pours into my ears and over my soul. 

You’re pushing till you’re shoving / You bend until you break

In different seasons of my life, I have different songs that I come back to over and over again. This month, it has been Switchfoot’s “The Blues.” It resonates with me in this season because the song carries a weariness of the world, and I feel a hint of it in my life right now. Sometimes I feel bogged down by a busy day, which escalates into a busy week. 

Often when I play songs on repeat, it is not because I consciously pick one that fits the moment, but rather the song is just there. It is the song that lingers with me through the day and gets stuck in my head in the most pleasant way possible. I listen again and again to the song that comes to mind for several days in a row because somewhere, deep below the surface, this song is connecting with something in my soul in that sort of magical way that only music can do. 

“The Blues” is a slower, sadder tune. It pauses and asks questions rather than offering commentary. It is a glimpse through the everyday things and into the aching heart of the artist. I suppose that’s part of why it resonates with me because I have more questions than answers. 

Somedays it is only the weight of my life that weighs me down, but other days, when I pay attention to the news, it feels like it is more than that; the whole world is collapsing slowly, and Switchfoot captures that feeling in their music.

Does justice never find you? 

Do the wicked never lose?

Is there any honest song left to sing besides these blues?

I have been listening to Switchfoot since my early childhood. They have been a band that I consistently come back to for years because they do not just acknowledge the ache of the world, but they also hint at the hope that remains. When I am feeling down (or just plain exhausted), their music not only meets me where I am, but it also reminds me of why I keep going. 

Is there any net left that could break our fall?

The next day, as I walk from one class to the next, I breath in the sweet air. It is spring again, sort of. The trees are still bare and the skies are cloudy, but the temperature is fluctuating and slowly warming up. There is still a song humming in my mind. 

It’ll be a day like this one

When the sky falls down 

And the hungry and poor and deserted are found