CD Guidance

For years a disturbing phenomenon has been spoiling my pleasure in music. Every so often, one of my discs emits a jarring cacophony instead of sublime tones. In fact I rarely manage to listen to any disc, be it modern songs or a classical work, without some disturbance.

I am aware that I am often subtly alerted in this way that someone is about to arrive, especially useful when I am doing last minute preparations before receiving guests, or if David is about to drive up. If I am not fully concentrating, there are also variations to signal the gas or oven should be turned off, or to forewarn about an impending telephone call. However, I am often perplexed and overwhelmed by the screeching and often screech back: “What do you want from me? What have I done wrong? Almost all my discs are affected. At one stage, David said he would buy me a new CD player. Does he really believe that is the solution?”

Although the phenomenon of the disturbance with my discs is a familiar part of my daily life, it must seem far-fetched to others. Recently I discovered someone living in the same reality.

Once a week, I enjoy a Shiatsu treatment in the next village. The therapist, daughter of old friends is a most spiritual young woman. I discern that she prays before laying hands on me and think perhaps it is an Eastern invocation connected with this discipline. However she says it is her personal prayer to put her own concerns aside and to give all her energy and healing power to the person in her care. She is obviously a gifted healer because, despite the fact that this therapy is very vigorous and sometimes even painful, I have been known to fall asleep in the middle of a treatment.

At my last appointment, the soothing background music suddenly went berserk like my discs do. I knew it was my fault, because I was having some really petty thoughts when I was supposed to be meditating in order to garner the most benefit from the session. When my healer went to change the disc, it emerged that it happens regularly and she attributed it to her brainwaves, that when she lost, even for a moment, the high level of concentration needed for her work, her discs reacted. She thought she would have to discard several discs, but I assured her the damage is not permanent.

A few days ago, David commented on the disturbance in the Beethoven violin sonata. He asked me why most of my discs appeared to be faulty. I said the only way I can explain it is reaction to brainwaves. Needless to say, this was greeted with much scepticism. Now, whenever he is witness to this phenomenon, he calls out: ‘Your brainwaves are working overtime.’