My Dirty Little Secret

I have a confession to make. I like music. I know. That makes me a hypocrite.

Ok, there may be some people reading this that aren’t muslim. Within the Islamic community, the permissibility of musical instruments is something that is very controversial. In Islam, there is a concept (actually a hadith, a narrated saying of the Prophet Mohammed) that what is permissible is clear, what is forbidden is clear, and the things in between are the grey areas. I feel music is a grey area. So… in the past few years I have advocated a music free lifestyle, just in case musical instruments are something that God really DOES want us to avoid. Hadith hints at it, and scholars give fatawa regarding how ‘bad’ music is….so I tried to rip all the desire to listen to music out of my heart. I found other things to play on the stereo (recitation of the Quraan, for example).

For those that don’t know me well, I was the kind of youth that constantly had music playing- the radio, tapes, later on, my sister’s Cd collection… I started learning to play the flute in fifth grade, continued on with that until I started alto saxophone in junior high. I went to an artsy fartsy crunchy granola head music and drama filled sleepover summer camp throughout my pre-teen and teenage years. I started on drill team in high school, and I probably attended every school dance from sixth grade through my sophomore year of college. I was INTO music. And I’m not one of those people who can classify their musical tastes as “alternative” or “R&B” or “Country”. I wish I was so simple. The problem is… I love it all. From Tracy Chapman to Brahms to Sousa marches. I even like Backstreet Boys and went through a Guns N Roses phase, a Tupac Shakur phase… I was a Madonna wannabe, lusted after INXS… Basically, I like anything that can move me. And I’m so sensitive and emotional… it ALL moves me.

A few years ago I discovered Islamic nasheed. That means religious acapella singing for muslims. It was love at first note. I bought every Dawud Wharnsby Ali cassette the Canadian convert produced. I also adore the sweet voice of Zain Bhika. I also own all the Cds of Yusuf Islam (formerly known as Cat Stevens). I remember listening to Lps on my mom’s living room floor of Cat Stevens and Bay City Rollers as a child. Something about Yusuf Islam’s voice brings back those sweet days of my youth. Cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man in the moon….

I started going to Sunapee Arts Camp in New Hampshire for my summer breaks starting in 1984, when I was 11 years old. I cried hysterically when my dad told me I‘d be spending 5 whole weeks away from home on my own. I thought I‘d die. After the first day, where I made a close friend, Nora, right off the bat, catching tadpoles together in the lake, I wanted to live at that place year round for the rest of my life. That place changed my life. It molded me. It is one of the most beautiful places on Earth, but maybe my opinions are tainted with the beauty of my coming-of-age memories.

One thing we did at that camp was sing. We always sang. After every lunch, we’d sing. At campfires, sang. When we were lucky, a counselor would bring a guitar into the bunk, turn off the lights and serenade us to sleep. Those memories are priceless. It was an environment that kind of just echoed of what I imagine the 60s were like. We wore tie-dyed teeshirts, we even made tie-dyed teeshirts. We learned to make pottery on the wheel. We made bead bracelets and macramé necklaces and all that good stuff. We went skinny dipping at night sometimes (don’t worry Mom and Dad, that was not co-ed). I made such strong bonds with friends so quickly in that environment. I think singing together does that to you. Singing together is the prelude to crying together. How can you really have intimacy with someone that you can’t sing in front of?

Sunapee Arts Camp and its counselors introduced me to James Taylor. I still remember my second year of summer camp, our sweet cabin counselor, serenading us to sleep with her guitar…

Been walkin my mind to an easy time
My back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows, it’ll turn your head around now…
Well there’s hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines
In pieces on the ground now.
Oh, I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain,
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought I’d see you one more time again

About two years ago, I bought my first CD with instrumental music on it in several years. It was James Taylor’s Greatest Hits. That man can still make me cry and make my heart feel like it wants to burst. He’s right up there in my book with Simon and Garfunkle. When I have a hard day, when I have so many emotions running through my blood and just need to cry and need a friend who understands and accepts me, I just put JT in the CD player. It’s not even the music, it’s his intonation, it’s the poetry of his words, the timing even when his lyrics are simple. His music is just that- so simple. Beautifully simple. So…

It’s out in the open now. I listen to music occasionally. Music gets me through things like housework and stressful life changes. I didn’t want to admit my weakness for music before now because I feared judgement from any well-meaning muslim sisters who might read this. But I have gotten to a point now in my life where I feel like I have to be authentic, and have some integrity… to publicly be myself and say, that’s me, goddamit, take it or leave it. If I leave this world with no friends, at least I can live with myself and know that I admitted who I was, and didn’t try to deny my nature.

And JT goes out singing--

When you’re down and troubled
And you need a helping hand
And nothing, oh nothing, is going right
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up
Even your darkest night.
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running
To see you again
Winter Spring Summer or Fall
All you got to do is call
And I’ll be there
You’ve got a friend.
If the sky
Above you
Should turn dark and full of clouds
And that old
North wind should begin to blow
Keep your head together
And call my name out loud now
Soon I’ll be knocking upon your door.
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running
To see you again
Winter Spring Summer or Fall
All you got to do is call
And I’ll be there
Hey ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend
When people can be so cold
They’ll hurt you, and desert you
Well, they’ll take your soul if you let them
Oh yah but don’t you let them…
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running
To see you again.
Oh baby don’t you know ‘bout
Winter spring summer or fall
All you got to do is call
And lord, I’ll be there
Yes I will
You’ve got a friend.

Can I really convince myself that God forbids such an expression of love?