Ever wonder why we keep coming back to some things over and over and over again? I think it's because it's the best, if not only way, to cope with the novelty that existence throws at us. And that's ok. Everyone needs to find ways to cope with novelty. It's a chronic condition from which we all suffer. There's some universal comfort in that thought, I find.
I remember having a conversation with someone to whom I used to assign a lot of importance at one point in time who, alas, never really understood why habits matter and why nobody can escape them, sort of like death and taxes. I suppose there's always someone out there who thinks they're impervious to what eventually ends up applying to all of us.
I love Verdi. I've been in love with Verdi's music since I was 5. I've seen many of his operas and every time I'd be overcome with a kind of emotion and thought that would transport me to places that nobody and/or thing ever could. Such power I have yet to feel doing anything else or being with anyone and I've always wondered why that is. I think this has something to do with the fact that I've loved him, Verdi, for such a long time that I'm, in a way, accustomed to having him as opposed to not. It's always been the place to which I could always go and find comfort in. Sort of like my already memorized lines from Dante and Goethe and Shakespeare. They also feed me. Regardless of what I'm accomplishing and where I'm going. They're always there and I can always withdraw from that account. I've never stopped loving Verdi's music. And I've stopped loving a lot of other things. Boredom eventually swallows all else, regardless of how significant they are at the get-go. But Verdi, and Dante, and coffee, and writing, and music, I never did. Stopped loving, that is. The more I think about this, the more comfortable I get with this natural tendency I have to be introspective.
And, even though I lead a mercilessly busy life, I always have time to pop in some Verdi, as I clickety-clack away on the computer, get more and more work done, but deep down feel like I've never left home. I make sense. All else that never had any meaning to begin with, leaves the way it came in the first place: too easily. And that's good. Nobody like Verdi to put things in perspective for me.
And, if you'd like to get a quick taste of Verdi, check the following out from YouTube. Even better, invest in some great recordings and you will be so much the richer as a result. Everyone needs a little "Marcia Trionfale" in their life to make it all better. It's 49:41, by the way.