I dream differently to jazz

Last night after a very long but blessed business trip, I climbed aboard the plane at PDX and found my seat. I was looking forward to this four hour flight that was ahead of me. I don't sleep much but enough usually, over this trip deep sleep escaped me.

A gentleman sat down next to me and well, I've never met a stranger. He stood out entering the plane because the stewardesses made a big deal about space. He and his friends were spread all over the plane but they all came carrying instruments, having to store them in the very back. 

As I prepared myself for the long flight, adjusting my jacket, getting my earbuds ready and detangled, I asked him how he reclined his seat. Being new to this airline I couldn't figure out how to do it. Turns out it took extra effort for me anyways since the lever was under the seat and you had to simultaneously pull the lever and push back with your back. With my vertical challenges and short arms, reclining seat turned out to be quite an amusing sight for all around. 

I asked this gentleman what instrument he played and if he was from Portland. He wasn't, but he played the trombone. Jazz was his trade. Tired as I was, I thanked him for his help and asked him one more question: "If I were to find one  Jazz artist on Apple Music to listen to for the flight who should I find?" After a moment of consideration his response was - Brad Mehldau. 

I looked him up. This Brad guy is a pretty prolific artist, so the gentleman picked an album for me. I laid back, closed my eyes and drifted off with my pink pillow wrapped snugly around my neck.

If you meet me, I might randomly ask you for an album to listen to. It keeps my musical life diverse. 

Music speaks to my soul. I'm a feeler. I feel everything deeply. I gave up memorizing music, albums, or who sings what a long time ago because I am also a thinker. My mind goes a mile a minute and inconsequential things are left to the side as I process, which to the horror of some and the joy of others I am an external processor. I talk things out. I write things out. Too some that means I talk too much. I guess, music joins me in the conversation and speaks to the deepest parts of my soul. 

No, I'm not going to tell you my dreams because you wouldn't understand, but I will tell you that I dream differently to jazz. Something in my soul listened intently while my eyes and my mind rested and I danced in my seat. 

I awoke as we were landing and I thanked this gentlemen. "Thank you for picking the soundtrack to my dreams."

He looked at me strangely, thought about it, then giving a twinkling smile said, "Ha! You're welcome!"  

Knowing that the man next to me was not the man on the album cover he had chosen, I asked him if he played music like that and he said no, his was a little different. Turns out I was sitting next to a pretty prolific jazz artist in his own right! And I dream differently to jazz.