A soul is a hard thing to put into words. But in those rare instances where you can feel your essence in the air, there’s something special. It steals your breath, stops your heart, and brings tears to the back of your throat, like there’s an ancient animal in there, clawing at you, trying to make its presence felt. It’s an almost frightening experience, but there’s something old in there, old as time, that stirs inside. You just can’t keep away from that book, that poem, or in my case, that CD.



Music is the air around me, the song in my heart, and the salt in my tears. I’ve known this for a long time, and I struggled for a while, trying to find something that expressed my experiences and made me laugh, cry, smile, anything. My tastes changed drastically as my search progressed. First, I fell in love with the commercial, pretty, clean, and vocals-oriented style of pop. I listened to a little Taylor Swift, a little Miley Cyrus, a little of whatever was popular, pretty, and neat.



But quickly, it became painfully clear that something was missing. This was about the time that Clockwork Angels came out. Perhaps first I should explain about my dad. He’s a hardcore progressive rock fan, and he’s been in love with the Canadian rock power trio Rush ever since he was nine. He never pushed me, but perhaps we both knew, deep inside ourselves, that one day I would take on the mantle of Crazy Rush Fan onto the next generation. Hallelujah. Praise the holy triumvirate.
Anyway.



So, the first time I listened to that album, I found myself liking it. I won’t say that something clicked, not immediately, but I certainly took a listen, and wanted more. I felt myself wanting to rise to the challenge, and ask some of the harder questions, not why did he leave me? but is all for the best in this universe? Because, you see, Rush carries a heavy philosophical freight in their songs. They ask the hardest questions about acceptance, religion, government, and human nature. This was when I started to grow up.



After I got into Rush, I started to read the papers and pay attention to politics. I criticized what I didn’t like, and analyzed bills and policies. I began to care about and advocate for human-rights groups. I want canvassing for Obama. I started to value acts of kindness more, and not take my freedom for granted as much. I began to actually think about religion, and discrimination, and all the stuff that you don’t ever give a single flying f*** about as a kid, because no one ever asks you. I valued myself more. I thought about my potential.
And so I grew. I grew because behind the screech, there was a question.

Do I have this right?
It’s the question we all have to ask ourselves at some point. The sooner and the more often the better. And my listening to rock music got me there.
And I’m not even going to get into how mind-blowing they were in concert.

“In this one of many possible worlds, all for the best, or one bizarre test? It is what it is, and whatever. Time is still the infinite jest. The arrow flies as we dream. The cells tick away, they tick away.”
-The Garden, by Rush