Mayluna

by Kelley McNeil

He often said that time travel was more accessible to us than we realize, and that music is one of the ways we do it. He’s right, I think. After all, few things have the ability to transport us so completely and powerfully as the sound of the perfect, meaningful song. The music of our lifetime is woven into the fabric of our existence, our own personal soundtrack behind our stories. Maybe it takes us to a memory, an echo of something that once was, or maybe to a place where we can live out an imagined dream.

The cool autumn air hints at the coming change of season, and the sun hits my mother’s shoulders in a way that forms a kind of golden glow around her. It’s a hazy image, as early memories are, more of a moving snapshot than an actual memory. A feeling. Comforting. Perhaps borrowing from a later memory, I hear my mother’s gentle voice humming along as she strums the strings with delicate fingers.

So these things matter, you see. To me. These little details about the people who, for a time, became my whole world.

“Centuries ago, Pythagoras and Kepler developed theories that there’s a mathematical correspondence between the resonance of music notes and the exact configuration of our solar system. The belief that the motion of the planets creates a type of music and harmony that we can’t hear with our ears but can feel or sense on a subconscious or intuitive level. Some believe it’s a type of grand spiritual language. The universe speaking to our soul. We just have to listen.”