By Eileen Carey

At a time like this, when families are forcibly clustered together by social pressures both seen and unseen, it seems like everyone is frantically hunting down novel ideas for how to keep our sanity. The assumption is that extreme times call for extreme measures, so we search and search for new and scintillating ways to make sure our family members stay connected in a way that feels healthy, positive, and sustainable.

Fortunately, I can look to an experience from my past that taught me a lesson made even more meaningful by our current crisis: music can pretty much get us through anything.

It was the winter of 1982. A quaint, cozy cabin in the mountains of California was host to me, my family, and several close friends. We knew we’d be somewhat limited in our travels to and from our cabin, as winter in the mountains can make getting around nearly impossible. For one week, it was.

Due to a surprise blizzard and several local power outages, we quickly realized that we were going to be stuck in that snowy prison much longer than we had anticipated. Luckily, the cabin was well-stocked with all the food, clothing, and water we could ever need. Our physical survival was never in question.

But as for our mental wellbeing? Well, that was an entirely different matter.  

It was right around two days into our vacation when we realized that our brief, private weekend was in reality going to be a long, isolated week. We were with loved ones, some of our favorite folks in the world. So yes, the company was good. Very good.

But, as many of us are discovering nowadays, just because we’re completely isolated with people we love doesn’t change the fact that we are COMPLETELY ISOLATED with people we love.  

We quickly realized that it was going to require loads of creativity to make it through the next few days. In that regard, we were the luckiest people on earth. Our cabin just happened to be full of musicians, songwriters, and plain old lovers of music.

As a result, we were fully equipped with dozens of our favorite records, several acoustic guitars, and a whole lotta folks willing to sing the cold, snowy blues away.

And believe me when I say we sang. I honestly cannot remember an extended stretch of time when someone wasn’t strumming a guitar, or leading our group in a sing-along.

There was a ceiling-high mountain of vinyl stacked next to the record player, each of us anxious to spin our favorite song and, because the full-length was still relevant, our favorite album.

While the non-stop snow added fresh layers to our frozen refuge in the woods, we sang.

We danced.

We laughed.

We debated the merits of new wave, the future of country music, and the staying power of a young new Irish band named U2.

I struggle to think of anything we said or did that week that did not revolve around music.

What resulted from a potentially claustrophobic and relationship-killing week left me forever confident in music’s ability to unite, heal, and inspire.

I know that a week trapped in a mountain cabin with friends and family is not the same as our current crisis. Not even close.

But lately I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to make the best of an unfamiliar and potentially fearful situation.

For many of us, this pandemic has caused lots of anxiety and discomfort, if no pain. We’re hunkered down. We’re isolated. We’re bored. We may be alive and physically well, but this type of extreme discomfort and isolation day in and day out can lead to an overwhelming sense of negativity.

As a music mom who has been blessed with the opportunity to succeed as both a parent and musician, I naturally look to music as a source of hope and comfort during times like these. And, thankfully, it is up to the challenge: music can get us through the uncertainty, restlessness, and stir craziness of situations like this one.

My lost week in the mountains, when I was surrounded by nothing but snow, cold, and several loved ones, was transformed by music into a memorable, almost magical, experience. It was the first time I discovered that music really can serve as a sort of emotional rescue.

Right about now, when we all feel like we’re stuck in the woods during a never-ending snowstorm, seems like the perfect time to whip out all that vinyl we’ve been meaning to get reacquainted with, blast our favorite songs and albums, and sing at the top of our lungs. 

It’s time to let music bring us the hope, healing, and happiness we all so desperately need.