Music is the emotional life of most people.

Hear, O children of sound and silence, the words of Leonard Cohen, who declared: “Music is the emotional life of most people.” These words fall upon us like a solemn hymn, for they reveal that music is not a luxury, nor a passing pleasure, but the very breath of the heart. Where words falter, where reason fails, music enters—carrying joy, sorrow, longing, and love upon invisible wings. To many, it is the unseen diary of the soul, the one companion that translates what cannot be spoken.

For behold, the emotional life of man is vast, yet fragile. It trembles under sorrow, it burns with desire, it yearns for connection. But how shall the heart express its infinite tides? Words often stumble, caught in the snares of language. But music—whether in the cry of a violin, the beat of a drum, or the simple hum of a voice—speaks directly, piercing the soul without translation. Thus, Cohen, a poet and singer himself, testified that most men and women lean upon music as the truest mirror of their emotions.

Consider the Negro spirituals, born from the chains of slavery in America. Stripped of freedom, dignity, and hope, the oppressed turned to music. In those haunting melodies they poured their grief, their faith, and their yearning for liberty. These songs were not mere entertainments—they were the emotional life of a people denied their humanity, yet still clinging to their souls. From their sorrow was born strength, from their melodies arose hope. This is the power Cohen spoke of: music as the vessel of the deepest human experience.

History is filled with such examples. When Beethoven, deaf and isolated, wrote his Ninth Symphony, he was pouring into sound all the anguish of his suffering and all the triumph of his spirit. Though he could not hear, he gave the world a song of joy that surpassed despair. To the listener, his symphony becomes more than notes; it is an inheritance of resilience, a testimony that even in silence, music carries the fullness of the heart. Truly, it is the emotional life of us all.

Mark this wisdom well: to despise music is to despise a part of one’s humanity. For even the simplest folk, who may never read books of philosophy or gaze upon works of art, know the comfort of a song. A mother’s lullaby to her child, the chants of soldiers before battle, the hymns of the faithful in worship—all prove that music is the language of the heart. It is not reserved for the elite, but belongs to all who feel, who love, who weep, who dream.

The lesson is plain: guard your emotional life by nourishing it with music that uplifts, strengthens, and heals. Do not fill your heart with sounds that degrade or enslave it, but choose melodies that lead you to higher ground. Just as food shapes the body, so music shapes the soul. In moments of sorrow, let music comfort you; in moments of joy, let it magnify your gladness; in moments of weakness, let it give you strength.

Practical wisdom calls for this: make music a part of your daily life. Sing, even if your voice is frail, for it is the act that heals, not perfection. Listen with attention, not as background noise, but as communion with the unseen. Share songs with others, for in shared music hearts are united more swiftly than in speech. In this way, you will cultivate an emotional life that is rich, resilient, and deeply human.

Thus, beloved, remember Leonard Cohen’s words: music is not merely sound, it is the emotional life of most people. Cherish it, cultivate it, and let it shape you. For in music, we find the hidden voice of our souls, the bridge between heart and heart, and the eternal song that binds mankind together.