Green Garden

There's this song by Laura Mvula called "Green Garden" which I heard for the first time on my way to work on the radio station for people who think they're too cool for songs that more than 500 people have heard. 

It had a really cool sound, and most importantly, it sounded very exclusive. So I got on a little Laura Mvula kick. Today, the song that remains in my playlists is Green Garden. 

Until recently, I never felt a super-strong connection with the lyrics except that they had strong imagery and I liked that. 

But one day, I heard "Take me outside, sit in the green garden/Nobody out there, but it's okay now,/bathe in the sunlight, don't mind if rain falls..." 

And I immediately became the song. 

To sit alone outside is one of the greatest pleasures. And not with a glass of lemonade on a deck chair, but in the thick of the outdoors. 

There's something special about sunlight. Even its heat becomes pleasant when I am still. Baking in the sun. In a relationship with something other. 

And the rain, the joy and the symbolism I feel in rain makes me feel connected to the song as well. Jumping in a puddle is like being reborn or like shedding a skin and becoming shamelessly childish again. 

Do you ever act like someone is watching when you're alone? Like, close your car door a certain way as if someone else is very interested in the smoothness with which you turn your keys? Or do you open doors with your feet and think that if someone was watching you they would think you were so cool?

Well, I do. I dance in public if I hear a good song, or even if I don't, so that's no big deal, but when I'm alone and I dance by myself, I act as though I am trying to impress somebody. As hard as I try when I'm alone on a hill with my eyes closed laying in the sun, I still imagine an audience which is very interested in the way I am moving, even breathing. 

So when Mvula says "nobody out there, but it's okay" - it's the being at peace that speaks to me. She's being real with herself and just experiencing the garden as it is without thoughts of others, real or imaginary. 

Mvula goes on to talk about taking her shoes off and walking on a carpet of green velvet, which is a beautiful visual. 

I read once that having your body directly in contact with the earth (called "earthing") isn't just "good fer tha soul" but actually has health benefits (the article actually backed it up with an explanation). I buy into both ideas and love walking/hanging around with no shoes.  

In the end, I just really want to share the victory that I have found a song that really speaks to me or even of me. I love a lot of music but most of it brings me into the lives of others and with this piece I was able to better appreciate my own life.