Are You the Conductor or the Music?

As a conductor, one utilizes their hands and perhaps a stick to give direction to the music. It is the conductor that tells the music to start and stop. It is the conductor that makes the music play louder or softer, to play faster or slower. Even the beat is not immune to the conductor’s control. The direction the conductor gives us so vital, but without the proper attention almost invisible. There is no sound that comes from the conductor’s hands, but one of the strongest presences. However, without the music the conductor’s hands become pointless

The music is everywhere. It is in the ears of the players, the crowd, and even the director. The music usually flows with the motion of the conductor’s hands, but sometimes doesn’t. When the music doesn’t follow orders, it is often the first to be blamed for the random sound. “It was what the music called for at the time.” One would say, or “it was a mistake with the music,” another would say. Although the music is often confined to the hands of the conductor, it is within itself powerful, confident, and secure. If the conductor is the motion, then the music is the emotion. When the hands stretch and pull, the music wails and moans. When the hands drop to the conductor’s sides the music is silenced. When the director taps the music fast and rapid, it giggles with a cheerful voice.

Out of these two beings bound by the chains of fate, which one takes precedence—which one is the most important? Without the conductor’s direction, the music is random, rampant, or completely silent. Without the music, there is no song, no emotion, no feeling. These two beings are shackled to each other, to make a new creature altogether, a voice brand new, but is this voice stronger or weaker, better or worse, good or evil? A union built in heaven or hell, for better or worse, through sickness and in health.

Till death do we part.