The Lesbian’s Song
My good friend Loveleen and I were having drinks one night at a nice quiet bar in Vancouver. If you don’t remember, Loveleen is a gorgeous girl who also happens to be a lesbian. I was consoling her because her relationship hadn’t worked out. You see, she had waffled for some time about how far to dive into the relationship she’d been in, and while she had tried to make up her mind, the other girl had made the decision for her and had left.
Now a couple months later, Loveleen was struggling with the choice of whether or not to jump into the dating world again, or if she was better off alone for a while. “What’s the balance?” she said to me, sighing. “Humans are social creatures and studies show that we thrive better in longterm partnerships. So human connectedness is not just a bonus; it is critical. But, we hear that we can’t depend on others to make us happy. So, Dr. Matt, how do we balance it out? Depend on ourselves but take care of our real need to be with others?”
I took a drink of Kwak, which is a great Belgian beer (if you’ve never tried it), then said, “It’s not as paradoxical as it sounds.” I paused, pondering a way to place it in a perfect perspective for Loveleen. Remembering that she is an expert violinist and plays in an orchestra, I said, “Imagine that you are at a conference with a bunch of musicians. You find yourself a corner to take out your violin and play a tune. The music lifts your spirits and makes you happy. Then, another musician comes along and begins to harmonize with you. The music is all the more rich and uplifting because of the participation of the other person. Now, in that scenario, you created your own happiness, but the addition of another person deepened your experience. It’s like a wave that is amplified in power.”
Loveleen smiled. “I like that,” she said. “But if I always played music alone, that wouldn’t make me happy.”
“Of course not,” I said. “You have to trust that if you play your song, another musician will hear it and want to join in. But you don’t play it to draw them in. You play it to create great music for you, and let the music take care of the rest.”
“I see,” said Loveleen. “So, Dr. Matt, why do some musicians stop playing together?”
I shrugged. “Maybe because one of them starts playing a song that the other one doesn’t know. And either they don’t realize the other person doesn’t know the song, or they realize it and decide to keep playing anyway. There’s a universe full of songs, but sometimes people can be pretty set on playing their favorites.” I rubbed my moustache. “On the other hand, sometimes they decide that the other person is crappy at harmonizing, and that’s not always apparent with the first few notes.”
Loveleen took a sip of her martini. “I don’t know how much music making I’m ready for,” she said.
“Well,” I said, “remember that just because you harmonize well with someone doesn’t mean that you have to start up a traveling band. The problem with the end of a relationship is that it sometimes makes us hesitant to even play our song, and that’s just stupid. Play your song, and if and when an opportunity presents, then decide how many bars to play, and how vigorously to draw your bow over your violin.”
Loveleen and I finished our drinks, and went on our way. A day later she wrote me and said if I wrote about her again on this blog, to let people know she was single and ready for some music-making. So, ladies who like ladies, let me tell you about a girl I know who is gorgeous and has incredibly dexterous fingers. I’m telling ya, she’s the kind of person that might incline a musician to pull out their instrument.
Just My Thoughts,