Give yourself a gift.

A while back [ed.: he means a long time ago] I was serving as the assistant program director for instruction at the Georgia Governor’s Honors Program (GHP). My job was to ride herd on the faculty and assist them in meeting the goals of the program. I was also their dorm mother.

(Those program goals, for those who are interested, were to provide instruction that is significantly different from the regular high school classroom; and to empower our students with the skills, knowledge and attitudes to become independent lifelong learners. It worked.)

Part of my job was to observe the instructors in the classroom, and so it came about that one day I was observing my friend Dave Adams; his students were engaged in a simulation of the start of World War I. When I got there, Germany was still posturing, the U.S. was still smug and quiet, and everyone still hated France. While Europe parleyed, music played. I complimented Dave on the music, and he offered to make me a copy of the CD, which he had put together from his collection. He called it his Music for the Soul CD; its contents represented music that resonated deeply for him.

The idea of creating a CD that was filled with music that had special meaning for your soul is right up there with the “10 books for your desert island” meme, but unlike your mythical shipwreck, this is one you can actually do, and so I offer this idea to you as a gift for yourself.

Of course, I doubt anyone reading this is still burning CDs, so translate everything I just said into “playlist.”

What’s on my Playlist for the Soul? It’s actually undergone a couple of revisions since that long ago time, and since I do in fact still burn CDs on occasion it’s still under 70 minutes long.

Here are the tracks:

  1. I. Allegretto, Symphony #2, Sibelius

  2. I. Prelude, Cello Suite #1, Bach

  3. “Juice of the Barley,” English Country Dances, perf. Bare Necessities

  4. “Wait,” Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming, M83

  5. I. Allegro, Piano Concerto #2, Dohnányi

  6. “The Hours,” The Hours, Glass

  7. III. Chorus, “Kommt, eilet und laufet,” Easter Oratorio, Bach

  8. “Towards the Dream,” Dreamtime Return, Roach

  9. “Prelude & Fugue No. 7 in A major,” 24 Preludes & Fugues, Shostakovich

  10. “The Heart Asks Pleasure First",” The Piano, Nyman, perf. Klass

  11. Canon in D, Pachelbel

  12. “The Breaking of the Fellowship,” Fellowship of the Ring, Shore

And why is this music for my soul? What does this say about me? I shall hazard a guess. It’s complex, esoteric, cerebral. It’s melancholy, mostly underneath but occasionally on the surface. It’s coherent, completely tonal; no 12-tone horrors here. It moves, none of it is static, the Glass and Roach notwithstanding. And much of it is inward-looking. Yep, that about sums me up.

Take a break. Create your own Playlist for the Soul. As a creative restraint, keep it below 70 minutes. Take your time. Revise freely.

And, if you’re like me, on those days when you need a reminder of Who You Are, give it a listen.