My New-Aged Ipod

When I bought my Ipod, it was with great chagrin. I was teaching at the time, and I competed with the little electronic beasts for my students’ attention on a daily basis. I did the “pull out your earphones” gesture about as often as I turned a page. I wanted one so that I could keep alert and relaxed while slogging my way through my very large pile of marking, and it worked. Within weeks, I was so smitten that I purchased a colourful sticker to disguise its bland, silver exterior, and I hungrily downloaded anything funky enough to capture my interest. It was cute as a button, and it seemed that whenever I needed a lift, the perfect song title would dance across its tiny screen.

It didn’t take long to notice that my new musical friend played favourites. Songs and artists tended to repeat themselves. One week, my Ipod had a thing for Blondie, and the next, it was preoccupied with George Clinton. I turned it over and over in my hand, wondering how musical taste could be built into something the size of a credit card. It occurred to me that my Ipod’s predilection for choosing certain songs could be put to good use. One day, when I was contemplating the mysteries of the universe, I set the little gadget to shuffle, took some cleansing breaths and asked a few key questions.

I wondered “What should I do about this manuscript I’ve been working on?” and hit play. Bob Marley reassured me with “Don’t let them change ya! Or even rearrange ya!” Interesting.

Then I inquired about another project that wasn’t getting the reception I had hoped for. The answer came from The Doors, who reassured me that “People are strange, when you’re a stranger.” Whoa.

When I asked how my friend in a different province was feeling, Neil Young responded with “I need you.” I called her later on that evening.

No, I didn’t start thinking that my Ipod was possessed, or that helpful little house elves were sending me messages through something I bought at a big box store. I like to think that the universe has better things to do than speak to me through my stereo equipment (that’s what grilled cheese sandwiches and sweat stained t-shirts are for). It wasn’t fool-proof either. I’m still trying to figure out what spiritual lessons can be learned from “The Macarena” or “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”.

The entire exercise did, however, demonstrate that in some bizarre, Jungian way, one can use the songs in a playlist to help clear one's head and get some much-needed perspective. Even a beginner model Ipod like mine can hold enough tunes to a keep person surprised. An eclectic music collection helps too, as wisdom and clarity often come in unexpected forms. If one listens with one’s right brain, “Baby Got Back” becomes a lesson in positive body image, and “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” encourages one to lighten up a little. Songs like “Shiny Happy People” and “We Are the Champions” are fairly self-explanatory.

Music has always been used to “soothe the savage beast”. Apparently, with the help of a hand-held MP3 player, and a willingness to listen to just about anything, it can also serve the same function as a deck of tarot cards, or a magic 8 ball. Life, the universe, and everything are much easier to decipher while singing off-key and dancing around the living room.