When he was 15 years old, Haruki Murakami saw a concert that laid fresh stones towards a thicket of life in the unconventional. The show was Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, performing in Kobe during the spring of 1964. It feels important to note that this performance featured Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Curtis Fuller on trombone, Wayne Shorter on sax, and Cedar Walton on piano - simply because I hear this exact same celebrated lineup named on KMHD all the time. Almost daily. And here I am, passively listening to the music that changed the life of someone who changed mine. Pay attention, Sera! This is a love story!
10 years later, Haruki postponed college to open a jazz club in Tokyo called Peter Cat. This is where he spent the following 7 years writing his first 2 novels. Of course they should fall under the genre of magical realism, since this is how he lived. We exist through what we create, self-birthing and dying in our seasons- and what we create directly shapes how we live.
"I didn't write anything. I was just one of those ordinary people. I was running a jazz club, and I didn't create anything at all," he said. Which, is wild because through time-travel-vision, he basically managed to transmute his 15 year old passion into reality. But passions change. To me, this translates into a clear message. While being busy, it's hard to focus. The ping of creativity falls farther and farther away. But "busy" can be like nature, offering a slow renaissance amidst a blurry pace. Life and the growth that ensues is in fact inspired by it. Maybe then it is up to us to say, "thank you, busy life. I understand now," and get to the real work. The stuff of legacy, and the magic dust we leave behind.