Under the Marimba, just a quick little anectdote to relieve some stress Options

[Rebecca]

Under the marimba is where I've always hidden. Under the marimba is where I can think. Under the marimba is where I am safe. But up above it, playing it, is where I am most at ease, at least, when I can put my whole heart and soul into it, by myself, without anyone to be bothered by wrong notes or the sheer volume of it.

When there is nobody around to care, my entire being becomes the mallets. My essence merges with the sweet, deep and high vibrations that make the melody that my hands play at any given moment. When I play, even a simple warm up exercise is a complex musical piece, with endless variations and parts, and I have to play it until the end, no matter how much my hands, arms, and wrists complain.

There is something about this motionless thing that is better than any therapist. I can show whatever emotion I feel, without having to say a word. I can give it all of my secrets, without worrying about an opinion. There are things even my best friends don't know, that this apparatus of metal and synthetic wood does. Maybe it's because it won't judge whether it's being played by an amateur or a professional. It only cares about if you take care of it, and play it at all.

Laying down under the marimba, I can see the entire world. Not so much that the pieces were all made in some other country, but because it holds an invisible bond to every person who can play it. Most people look at it and run their finger down the bottom row, but a true player, one who dedicates themselves to only instruments of its caliber, will see it, and arm themselves with a pair or two of mallets. A true player will play their entire heart, soul, and being. They will become the music. I, myself, have only become thus enveloped a handful of times, and only when practicing. Only on maybe two occasions have I actually become one with the music during a performance.

Still, it is under the marimba, where I belong, and it is with the marimba that I shall stay. I am not like the others, who yearn to beat a drum. In fact, I loathe the thought. Anything that only makes one sound could not possibly convey the emotions of sadness and remorse. But at the same time, an instrument that can only make one sound at the same time cannot convey a complete emotion without at least one other to back it up. A melody could sound happy and jazzy with just one instrument, but once the other is involved, the tune suddenly becomes dire and sinister. But with the marimba, you can convey a complete emotion with just one person, because one person can play several notes at once. There are very few emotions you cannot display with a marimba.

I could live under the marimba, just lay there and think for days on end. The sweet, creamy harmonies would be my refreshment, and the firm, yet flexible mallets would be my sustenance. Though, there is one thing that a marimba cannot provide that is necessary for life.

Companionship.