March 4, 2005 - Here it is, the annual marching band day, "march forth", and as I listen to a Norah Jones CD in Murphin Ridge Inn, I realize the role that music has in my life is quite possibly unlike anyone else, and at the very least, a central theme, a melodic passage that walks along side me. When I'm not listening to music, I am singing. When I'm not doing either of those, I am playing music. When I'm not doing those things, I am sleeping, and most likely dreaming about some song that I have played or will play in some fashion. Music is constantly flowing through my body, and at most times, exclaiming itself to the people around me. I fill people with happiness and anger, sadness and optimism, depending on their ability to receive the music I am sharing with them. This is nothing I can turn off. In fact, I tried. A few weeks ago, at the start of Lent, I looked within to see what obstacles were preventing me from being able to grow with God, and I thought that by turning off my radio while driving would open up my eyes to the world that I've been covering up with the radio and my CD collection. Instead, I've discovered that music is really what defines me, and what I get my 'mana' or life from. I'm going to keep my radio off for the remainder of Lent because I hope there are more lessons to learn from the artificial silence I purposefully surround myself, but I won't learn those until the time is right.