Music has a way to take me to places in the past I thought I’d forgotten. One moment, I’m going about my day, and the next, a song pulls me somewhere else entirely. Not just to a memory, but into it.
I’m listening to a classic from Ben King right now, and suddenly I’m back on those long morning runs from Brunei Complex to the College of Engineering. I can feel the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement, the particular quality of light at that hour. I remember the stops I’d take along the way.
And then there are the other moments. The steep climb up the stairs to the 4th floor after a long day of class. Different time, same song, different feeling entirely.
It even brings back the people. Those friends I was so close to, the ones I don’t really talk to anymore. Not because anything bad happened, just because life moved us in different directions. But the music remembers them.
The strange thing is, I wasn’t trying to remember any of this. But somehow, without my permission, music had been quietly cataloging these moments. Preserving them in ways my conscious mind never bothered to.
It makes me wonder about the songs I’m listening to now. Will they ambush me years from now? Will some future version of me be stopped in their tracks by a melody that right now seems unremarkable?
I’m not what you’d call a music lover. I don’t worship any particular genre. But music still finds its way in. These moments of unexpected peace, when a song reorganizes my mind and smooths out the rough edges. That’s something worth paying attention to.
Maybe that’s the real gift. A reminder that even my ordinary moments can become something worth returning to.
My mind quiets. The memory plays. And for a little while, everything feels exactly as it should.
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