Music Attaches Itself to Life

I don’t remember where I was, but a Sheryl Crow song came on, All I Want to Do is Have Some Fun, and it was amazing how instantly I was whisked away to a (a-hem) party that I was at in High School.  I remember how I felt—young, unconquerable, yet inwardly insecure—I remember details like the front porch at my friend’s house that had these severely over-grown holly bushes that seemed to engulf the prime seating area on the porch.

When I hear the Nessun Dorma from Puccini’s Turandot, I think of my grandmother.  I was her live-in caretaker when she had entered into the early phases of Alzheimer’s.  I remember that song came on in a Best Buy and I was wearing a big suede coat with puffy fleece lining and recall vividly singing along to the words in the middle of the home audio section to the delight to Grams.

When I hear the classic hymn, Be Thou My Vision I remember standing at the alter next to my (soon-to-be) wife, holding her hand and marveling at the clouds finally parting from the soggy-wet rainy day and sun beams shining in through the big curtain glass window in the Bible Chapel where we took our vows.

Music is powerful.  The interesting thing is that it attaches itself to our lives uniquely.  My triggered emotions and memories connected to a particular song may be very different than your own.  Most likely, you have different emotions and memories—and most definitely different songs that have so deeply (and surprisingly randomly) attached themselves to you.

But music is a powerful, and woefully underutilized medium when it comes to marketing and fundraising.  How might we use music to attach itself to a positive giving experience?  We’ve become programmed to drop whatever it is we are working on to check the newest email that comes in when we hear that simple little email “chime.”  How might we create a similar sensory experience in the donation process?

Please share your thoughts on this—and some of your music-attached-memories.