Music. It has a way of being part of our deeper selves. Music seems to find its way to our core. It leaves imprint and memories there. Music we heard as children, or teenagers, once heard again, can zap us back to that earlier moment, that earlier self.

When I was a baby, my parents tell me, my eyes would well up whenever the Bacarole from the Tales of Hoffmann played.  In that instance it could not have been a memory tug. Where did that reaction come from? I still cry when I hear that music. It overwhelms me with beauty. I just found this wonderful version on YouTube sung by soprano Anna Netrebko & mezzo-soprano Elīna Garanča. Have a listen. I wonder how it sounds to you.

I’ve heard stories about my dad as a boy hiding under the ironing board while his mother ironed and sang opera arias. It was a memory he cherished. He also stood in line to get into the Metropolitan Opera House in NYC with his dad. My parents both loved music. My mom was a frequent fan at Frank Sinatra concerts. And my mom and dad met dancing on roller skates at the local rink in Brooklyn.

Music may be the food of love (as Shakespeare wisely educated us), but it is the food of food, too! My classes always have a music soundtrack playing in the background. The room, the kitchen, floats with more life when music is invited as well.

And, while we’re on the subject, memories of taste are just as strong, if not stronger, for transporting us to other moments in our lives. Ever have that experience? You taste something you haven’t had in a while and it immediately reminds you of a place, a person, a you of longer ago.

Our senses are wise companions. Let’s enjoy what they bring us.

Mom and me.