Hum

Sometimes I wish I could heal people.

In one way, I mean that I wish I was a heal-spec shaman or something who could chant for a few seconds and the guy out on the soccer field would get all his health back.

But in a more real way, I wish I could heal people on the inside.

Story time:
I was at my uncle's house with my sister, [You should all know that my Uncle Kenneth and his family are absolutely marvelous people.] and I was holding my second cousin, Lily.  She was an adorable little baby and she was pretty tired.  I swayed back and forth and hummed a short little tune that I made up.  It wasn't complex, and it pushed a bit on my higher registers, but it was still okay music.  Lily fell asleep easily.  I didn't really realize that the others in the room could hear me until my sister remarked on how Margaret was humming along with me.

I want to do that with people.  I know I'm not strong enough to physically hold them in my arms, but I really just want to rock the hurting people back and forth and just hum to them until they forget their problems in sleep.
I'd love to help each and every single hurt person (which would be all of them), but I'd settle for just one.  One person to love, that I can just hold them and hum to them.   No words.  No meaning.  Just music.  (This is why I get frustrated when people ignore their own emotions, because then I can't do this.  I can't help.)

Music can do nearly anything to your emotions.  Music has made me cry tears of joy, and it has also brought me to the deepest sorrow.  It can infuriate or calm, fuel the imagination or bring back to earth.  So maybe, if I could find just the right tune to hum, I could make someone okay.  I could heal.