Mood Music

My iPod is among my best purchases ever. Four years ago, it seemed such a drastic, expensive, indulgent item, but my excitement over it still holds up. Yet, as I reached for my little friend this weekend, and found its headphones all tangled up around it in the bottom of my purse, I realized I haven't been using it much lately.

For over a year, I listened to it daily during my commute--an hour each way. When I started working at home, I still used it. I'd bring it to the library or the coffeehouse, to help me tune out surroundings while I worked. Any time I took the subway, in went the earbuds. Long distance travel? You'd never find me without it. Its music, organized into my own mixes, helped me cultivate certain moods. On the way to work, a buck-up: You can do this. One day at a time. On the way home, calming: You did your best, time to rest. If I was on edge, there was a mix to match or soothe the mood. If I was sad, I could allow myself to wallow, or draw myself back up with the push of a few buttons. Music for every mood.

I still love my iPod, but I just don't need it the way I once did. Like books or TV, I've always treated music as a form of escape, something to lose myself in for a while. I don't know exactly when it happened, but my relationship with music has changed. I no longer rely on my iPod for comfort because I wake up knowing that I get to spend the day in my own space doing what I love.

Sure, I still listen to the occasional ballad if I'm feeling melodramatic, or angry chick music when I'm in a funk, or indie pop when I feel the need to just bop around, but it's not as automatic. It's not about fixing something that's wrong. I enjoy it more. The iPod will always have a place in my heart, and a place in my purse, but finally she's taking a backseat!