“You can go slow. Allow your dreams and goals to change, but live an intentional life.” ~ Kumail Nanjiani.

Music and dance are entwined with memories of growing up in Jamaica. Noone ever dared suggest that as a white girl, I did not have rhythm, at least not that I ever heard.  Nor did I really care.  Once I heard that beat I was moving.  I recall being given lessons in how to do the ‘Ska’, a name that was derived from the sound of the back beat which is the basis of most Jamaican dance music.  But once I had those basic moves down, I just allowed the music to move me.  Later in life I would have arguments with various boyfriends who were all about the lyrics, especially conscious, woke, lyrics.  But for me it was enough to have a strong bass line, a great beat.  To this day, all I have to hear is Leroy Sibbles’ bass guitar strumming ‘dum, da-dum, da-dudum, dum’ and I am moving (‘you were my very first girl…’).

When I started high school in Jamaica, we followed the British educational system, sitting a ‘common entrance exam’ at age eleven, and based on your results (at that time) you could get a full or part-scholarship to high school.  That was high drama, as you may have to travel far to sit the all day exam (ten or twelve miles took more than thirty minutes by bus in those days, on those winding, country roads), and then wait months for the results to be published in the daily newspaper.  If you did well, you would be assigned to your ‘first choice’ high school.  In my case, I was assigned to the (only) high school in the town where I lived, where both of my parents taught, and where my father was chaplain.  My older siblings also attended there after being transplanted from the UK. 

One of the big activities that was part of high school life, was the after-school ‘social’, also known as a ‘Boogie’ (probably a US influenced name). I forget how often these may have happened, but for a small fee, there was music and dancing.  There may have been liquid   refreshment (unattractively known as ‘wash’).  My first year in high school, we ‘boogied’ on the verandah of an old ‘great house’, Tavanore was the name, a building that once housed the whole school as well as dormitories for the boarders.  We only had a couple of hours (had to shut down before dark, and dusk comes early in the tropics), but it was enough to get our dancing feet moving.  If we were lucky, there would be a few slow songs, and in Jamaican parlance we would ‘rent a tile’, taking up very little space as we got close and personal with a member of the opposite sex (thrills!).  Unfortunately ‘Tav’ later burnt down, and the socials moved to the ‘Triple formroom’, a room with folding doors that expanded three separate rooms into a large dance floor.

Music and aromas have the special ability of helping with recall, not only reminding you of a person or place, but a time in your life and the associated emotions.  They have used music in the care of people with dementia, as it has been shown not only to soothe and calm an anxious mind, but also may assist in restoring lost memories, reigniting lost skills.  I once watched a video of a man who was completely non-verbal due to Alzheimer’s disease.  They placed headphones on him and as he heard music from his youth he gradually became more and more animated, and conversed with those around him, was even able to answer questions relevant to the music. 

There is something about hanging out (as I did last weekend) with people you grew up with, or those who have a similar background and history.  At the annual fund-raising dinner dance (and other activities that fill the weekend), music was the backdrop to all of our events.  If you have ever been to a Jamaican party, you will know what I mean.  Good food, generous amounts of booze, and nuff loud music!  Of course, as I grow older, I find my tolerance for the extra volume on the sound is somewhat painful and discourages conversation!  But once I hear that beat I am moving, whether it is the old ska beats, or any of the transitions (rocksteady, reggae) through to the present.  And I am transported back to my youth.

I once read about a study which was done on the power of intentionality.  A group of older men were placed in a hotel for a week or so.  The hotel was decorated in the era of their youth; all of the furnishings and décor were of that time.  All of the televisions, overhead music etc., were of that era also.  Newspapers, magazines, books that were in the common areas were from that time frame.  Blood work and vital signs were obtained at the beginning of the stay and again at the end of their stay.  Not only were all of the biomarkers improved, the men were also more active, playing tag football, games they had not played for years.  They also reported feeling younger, reinvigorated.  Merely by providing an environment that took them back to their youth.

Which makes me wonder what else we can accomplish by being more mindful, more intentional about our activities.  A line in a book I read recently suggested that even if you don’t think your life is meaningful, you should mean everything you do.  In other words, be intentional about your actions.  We all know people who have made a huge difference in our lives by saying something at the right time, or showing up and providing support.  Often that person is not aware of how impactful their presence was.  But if we show up as authentically present, willing to listen  or even just ‘hold space’ for another as they face their own challenges, sometimes that is more than enough.

It has taken me all week to recover from the partying of last weekend, especially since I am one of the team which hosted.  Despite feeling youthful, functioning on limited sleep is not one of my secret powers! But it is wonderful to know that we are able to party while raising funds to help current students at our alma mater.

This Friday morning, wherever you find yourself, I hope you hear music that makes you want to dance, and feel like a teenager again, so we can all stay forever young!  I hope that there are people in your life that show up when you need them.  And I hope that you can be authentically present for those who need you. 

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.