companions...

07 September 2004
4:55 p.m.
Geneva

When you’re traveling alone in life, you look for companions that don’t leave your side. They don’t have to be human or people. They can be things and pets. Some choose dogs and cats, others musical instruments and pens and papers like my trusty notepad.

I have always preferred people to be my companions but in the absence of one or two, I resort to my writing. But if I’m really emotional, I take one of my musical instruments and play it. I am not very good at any one instrument but the satisfaction I get and the comfort I feel is like that of a friend who aids you in times of need.

Today, I played my ethnic flute. It is an instrument from the Philippine highlands whose sounds are as soothing as a lullaby. With every blow and with every adjustment to cover the three holes on its body, a different emotion is released. And if, as if, you are communing with the thoughts in the untouchable air.

The serene sound that echoes matches the stirring of my heart. With every slight beat, getting faster and faster, the soul of the flute matches with sincere empathy.

Some people find companionship in their CDman’s and stereos. I prefer the sounds of instruments that communicate my thoughts to ears beyond mine.

I have many instruments; I play one for each particular feeling – a violin for happy and saddest moments, a drum for joyous occasions, a bandurria for patriotic songs, a flute for soulful reflections.

I play my flute with eyes closed, my emotions dance atop the notes whispered gently to the air forming a carpet of feelings. They stay in communion until I stop blowing into my medium.

In the darkness, I see myself floating and flying sifting through the notes and like a canter pouring water, I empty myself in the consolation of sympathetic silence.