All That Matters

ALL THAT MATTERS

I always found it absurd to consider experiences of the third kind which allegedly changed people's lives. They claimed with a certain degree of sincerity that something weird had happened to them for which they had absolutely no explanation. I certainly never believed in such Hocus Pocus. Never!

Until last week.

Rushing home I first thought that there was something wrong with the car radio reception. All of a sudden it switched from my usual talk programme -I thrive on information- to a classical music station. Here I have to add that I am living in a beautiful yet remote village called Dolant in South Africa which is in the middle of nowhere. We definitely have no classical music station in this area. Annoyed I tried to find my talk radio station but the knobs would not react, not a chance, and I stopped the car. Despite a thorough investigation of all the buttons with the help of my reading glasses I could not figure out what was wrong with the radio. Everything looked the same, I convinced myself. But while fiddling with the knobs my attention was forcefully drawn to the music: somebody was playing the piano together with an orchestra. Please excuse my ignorant description, but this is how far my knowledge went when it came to classical music. Then, the music changed from a subtle background sound to a more direct and clearer noise as if I was sitting in a music hall listening to a concert, in the first row that is.


Were the proverbial little green men from Mars descending on me? It must have been something bizarre like that because I felt gently pushed back into the seat. I closed my eyes and an incredible calmness overpowered me instantly.


Sounds crazy, doesn't it? I was hypnotized by the pianistic brilliance and virtuosity. Whoever was the composer must have been in love and amazingly, I was actually able to hum the melody and my hands moved as if I had piano keys in front of me and not the steering wheel. The variety of ornamental figures and showiness, yet quiet and melancholic tune, occurred like a spontaneous memory. It was not powerful, but rather like meditating in moonlight.

I knew the piece by heart! To my utter surprise tears streamed down my face, not of sadness but of a feeling of a thousand intimate memories - as if engulfed by a warm spirit. In retrospect, I cannot pinpoint what exactly went through my mind. It was more like a romantic impression, an amalgam of all the love I had experienced in my life, yet -astonishingly- with a turbulent edge.

The music was coming to an end, I knew, and I wanted to extend it, play it perpetually, but to my dismay the radio presenter interrupted: 'You will agree, an exceptional piece. This was a special request from George in Dolant. The second movement of ....”

I shrieked and stared at the radio. The announcer pronounced George the French way with both Gs spoken softly and drawn out.

“...the stock exchange shot up by two hundred and fifty points today in an unexpected reversal of investor confidence...”

Damned! My news station. I swear, I had not touched any knobs at the radio. Panicking, I tried to find the classical music station to learn which concerto they had played, but to no avail. And why had they mentioned my name? Couldn't be. My name is actually Lucille. Yet I knew that I had made that request. At this juncture I was convinced that I was going around the twist. Or had I fallen asleep? I turned my head this way and that but the road was deserted. No flying saucers from Mars.

What now? Confused, I tried to examine it rationally, but no matter which way I turned the experience, it did not make sense. I drove home, slowly, as if moonwalking and relaxed in the TV room with a double whiskey. Honestly, I was exhausted, almost numb and decided to delay everything on my rather long to-do list until later. How should I deal with it? Solve the riddle academically and Google it? Or should I rather put it down to general exhaustion? Admittedly, I had been very busy with the guest house lately but was I concerned, anxious or stressed out? Of course not! Was I perhaps in denial after the recent break-up of my long-term relationship with Fred? Nonsense! Ever since I had given up my high-powered corporate job in Johannesburg and moved out to this quiet and beautiful part of the country I was as happy as you can imagine.

But while I was sipping my drink, a crucial question kept on creeping up: who was I?

Suddenly, the TV set switched on and a presenter appeared on the screen. “ We are continuing our series of Famous Affairs with a notorious couple who had the courage to offend society during the late 1830s by openly living together unmarried on Majorca for him to recover from various ailments...”

Jesus! As if struck by lightning, I jumped up and quickly switched the TV off. Believe me, I knew the story! Frédéric and I together with my two children had spent the winter there. I in fact wrote a book about our adventures on that island.

I slowly closed my eyes and heard it clearly: Frédéric, mon cher Chopin, I so enjoyed you playing the second movement of your piano concerto No 2 in F minor, just for me, so full of love and passion. It had moved my soul, still does.

I have not shared this episode with anyone but rather put it all down to a once in a lifetime magical experience. Was I George Sand in a past life, the feminist, author and lover of Chopin? There are indeed a few parallels such as an occasional indulgence in an unorthodox lifestyle, but is this enough to suggest such a phenomenon? And how do I explain my sudden knowledge of classical music? Maybe my imagination is playing tricks.

But does it really matter? I threw away my horrible to-do-list, took up cycling and bought a selection of classical music recordings. Whenever I listen to Chopin's compositions, I am overwhelmed by a deep feeling of warmth, love and peace. If you ask me, this is all that matters.