Music as the Catalyst: A Journey Back to the Playlist
The house was quiet this morning. Properly quiet. Not the peaceful kind, but the heavy, thinking kind. I’d been feeling a bit adrift lately, caught in that familiar grind of just getting through the day. To break the silence, I opened iTunes, a thing I don’t do as often as I should. My world has become one of podcasts and the endless, angry chatter of news channels. Music, somewhere along the line, had just become background noise.
Then a song crackled through the speakers, a proper ghost from the 90s: Baz Luhrmann’s “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen).” A cheesy, spoken-word dance track. And yet, I found myself stopping what I was doing, leaning against the kitchen counter, and just… listening. Really listening. Not just to the words, but to the feeling behind them. And in that moment, I realised I was starving. I was starved of that unique kind of nourishment that only music can provide. A simple song had just reminded me of a powerful weapon I’d left to gather dust in the war against the noise in my own head.
The Nostalgia Hit: Lessons from the Class of ’99
The “Sunscreen” song is a strange beast. It’s a spoken-word graduation speech laid over a trance beat. But listening again, with the weight of twenty years of HS on my shoulders, some of the advice hits differently. It’s these lines that properly struck me:
“Enjoy your body, use it every way you can… don’t be afraid of it or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own… You are not as fat as you imagine.”
For anyone living with HS, that’s a tough pill to swallow. Our bodies often don’t feel like instruments; they feel like warzones. We spend so much time being afraid of them, hiding them, cursing their betrayals. But the song’s point is profound. It’s a call to find a moment of peace with the physical self, to appreciate it for what it can do, not just what it can’t. It’s a reminder that the relentless, critical voice in our head is often the biggest liar of all. The song gives you permission to offer yourself a bit of grace, a moment to say, “Right now, in this moment, this body is mine, and it’s alright.”
The Internal War: Finding a Mirror in “Hi Ren”
If “Sunscreen” is a gentle piece of advice, then “Hi Ren” by the artist Ren is a full-blown therapy session from a fellow soldier in the trenches. The song is a raw, unflinching depiction of Ren’s brutal battle with his own inner demons and chronic health issues, staged as a dialogue between his optimistic self and his destructive alter-ego. It is one of the most honest portrayals of the internal war of chronic illness I have ever heard.
The song resonates on a level that is almost uncomfortable. He captures the essence of the internal monologue so many of us live with. Take this exchange:
Hopeful Ren: “Nah, mate, this time it’s different, man, trust me. I feel like things might be falling in place.”Dark Ren: “Oh, your music is thriving? Delusional guy. Where’s your top ten hit? Where’s your interview with Oprah? Where are your Grammies, Ren? Nowhere!”
Has there ever been a more perfect description of the HS cycle? That brief window of remission where you dare to hope that this time, you’ve finally got the bastard on the ropes. And then the inevitable, cynical voice that reminds you of your limitations, that mocks your ambition.
But the song isn’t about despair; it’s about the fight itself. Ren acknowledges the two sides are inseparable: “I am you, you are me, you are I, I am we. We are one, split in two that makes one, so you see.” This is the core of it—accepting that this battle is a part of us, not an external enemy we can simply vanquish. It’s an “eternal dance.” The final, powerful lines are a mantra for every single one of us:
“I must not forget, we must not forget, That we are human beings.”
That’s the ultimate truth. We are not just our disease. We are flawed, messy, struggling, but profoundly human. Music, at its best, doesn’t just let us escape that; it helps us to understand it. It reminds us that even in our most isolated moments, we are part of a shared human story. And that is a powerful, healing thought.
(This is all part of the bigger battle for your mind. It’s a theme I explore in more detail in my post, “The Warrior Plan.”)
What song has been a real healer for you? What’s the one track that always gives you a bit of peace or a bit of fight when you need it most? Share it in the comments. Let’s build a community playlist.
You can listen to the songs on YouTube here: Everyone is Free To Wear Sunscreen & Hi Ren.