Why do these songs make me so emotional?

Lately I’ve been listening to my old Jackson Browne CDs while driving in the car. Although I’ve heard them a hundred times before, the opening chord of every song catches me by the throat. Yesterday I cried three times on my drive home from Petaluma. Why do these songs make me so emotional? What triggers the tears? And why do I feel so drawn to listen to them over and over again, attracted to and wanting more of that emotion?

Writing helps me deepen that inquiry

I graduated from college in 1977 and moved that summer to a sort of quasi-hippie commune in the Santa Cruz mountains. There were six adults, two kids, two goats, two black cats, and a dog that later gave birth to eight puppies under a full moon while we were high on acid. Tim was the guy who always had a pocketful of stash. He was also the one who brought in all the Jackson Browne tunes that wove their way through those heady days and nights in the redwoods.​​​​​​​

It was a critical time in my life. Even though I’d moved away from my parents’ home and put myself through four years of college, I’d yet to make that important passage to my own true place in life. Who was I? What was I here to do? Where would I go next? College was behind me, I had a new journalism degree, and I’d been so good. I’d been so hardworking and responsible. This was my belated adolescence. This was my rite of passage. This was my year to be free.

There was such an innocence, a playfulness, a sense of ambitionless freedom to that time. Throw another log on the fire. Open the door to a stranger. Say “yes” to psychedelics and sex. There was a wistfulness, a hopefulness, a wide-eyed “Oh-my-God-the-trees-are-alive!” wakefulness. And through it all, there was Jackson Browne, folk rock icon of the 70s, laying down the soundtrack of my life.

A journey to self

Listening to these songs again, 40 years later at age 62, I can feel that young woman on her independent journey to self. I feel that potent place inside of me that is open and empty and yearning and full, all at the same time. I feel the camaraderie and tension of living in community; the hard lessons of hope and trust and love. I feel the anticipation of life stretched out ahead of me, with all its promise and potential. I feel the longing of the young writer, the desire to say something, and the frustration at having gathered so few life experiences to help shape that eager voice.

An opportunity for life review

In a way, Jackson Browne’s music gives me an opportunity for life review. Forty years! Look what I’ve learned about life since then! In his music, I remember the truth of who I was then, and who I still am today. Feeling the power of that deep personal truth is moving; and so the music moves me to tears.

Writing can do that, too. Writing gives me a way to deepen my inquiry into whatever is right in front of me: a song, a drive through the country, unexpected emotion. It helps me find the truth of who I am. And sometimes the truth brings me to tears.

Where do you find YOUR opportunities for life review?

I’d love to hear from you.