There are moments in life
when words aren’t enough to capture the depth of gratitude we feel. Today, I
find myself sitting down to write something that has been long overdue a thank
you to a group whose music has not only lived in my head but shaped my journey
through the years. This letter is to you, Runrig, and the soul-stirring music
you’ve gifted the world.
Your songs are more than
just melodies; they are stories that breathe, spiritual reflections that dig
deep into the essence of life. I’ve been listening for decades now, but the
songs that you crafted—particularly those with spiritual and existential undertones—have
stayed with me in a way few others have. In a world where so much of modern
music focuses on fleeting pleasures, your work has always felt like a companion and reassuring voice.
Take The Cutter,
for instance. Here is a story captured in one song, yet it feels like an entire
epic. There’s something fascinating about how you wove narrative and reflection
together, and I’ve returned to it over and felt the pain of the migrant torn by two worlds.
Then there’s Somewhere—a
song that offers more than just music; it offers hope. Hope for something
beyond this life, a hope that, for me, has become more precious with the years.
That hope echoes my own beliefs, my own journey toward faith, and the deep
longing for a life beyond what we can see.
Recently I was diagnosed with cancer. The consultant said, "You're very bravado about this?" I replied, "There's a young man inside me. His age I do not know. He has followed me throughout life and we have shared the same experiences and he convinces me that I have eternity in view."
Proterra
is another masterpiece that I struggle to find words for. Every time I listen
to it, I feel shivers down my spine. The music stirs something ancient within
me, something that makes me feel as though I’m standing on the rockface and welcoming eternity for some unknown reason.
And how can I not mention
Maymorning? It captures the joy of spring in the north, where we endure
long, dark winters that test the soul. When the light finally returns, it feels this rebirth, The flowers, the sun, the landscape and the mood. like life coming back after it had long been forgotten. You
captured that perfectly, giving voice to what many of us feel living through
those seasonal changes.
Cearcal A' Chuain
has always struck me with its social metaphor of sailing through life. The
everyday is reflected here—our struggles, our perseverance—but so too is
something much deeper, a reminder that life is about the journey, about
navigating waters that are sometimes calm, sometimes stormy, but always
meaningful.
In Search of Angels: This one has been especially powerful for me. It speaks to the existential
angst we all face, the grappling with suffering, the endless search for
answers, and ultimately the hope that something higher, something better, will
come. It’s a song that reaches into the soul and pulls out questions many of us
carry but rarely voice. For me, it reflects the longing for spiritual fulfilment
that has been a constant thread throughout my life.
Finally, Life Is.
A simple title, but what a message! Despite the hardships, the sorrows, the
battles we fight, you’ve reminded us that there is another life waiting for us,
just over that drystone dyke. And for me battling with terminal cancer, It’s a song that keeps me grounded, yet hopeful.
It tells me that no matter how rough the path becomes, there is something
better, something eternal, just ahead.
What’s always amazed me
about your music is that, while it’s so deeply rooted in the Scottish language
and Highland culture, the themes you touch upon are universal. Whether it’s the
spirituality that shines through, the reflection on migration and longing for
home, or the simple but profound connections we make as humans, your songs
speak to everyone. You’ve managed to capture the heart of the Highland
experience while also speaking to something shared by all of us, no matter
where we’re from or what language we speak. That’s the true power of music—it
crosses borders, transcends languages, and reaches into the very core of what
it means to be human.
Perhaps I’ve read more
into these songs than was ever intended. But that’s the beauty of music and
poetry, isn’t it? Once it’s out in the world, it belongs to everyone who
listens, to everyone who finds their own meaning in the lyrics. Your music has
been with me since I was a boy, when I first discovered Play Gaelic
while watching Can Seo on TV. And ever since, your songs have been more
than just background noise—they’ve been companions through life’s highs and
lows, offering comfort, joy, and hope.
Thank you, Runrig. Thank
you for the joy, the reflection, and the spirit behind the music. You have been
a blessing in ways that words cannot fully express.
An Open Letter to Runrig: Thank You for the Music and the Spirit Behind It
"Perhaps I’ve read more into these songs than was ever intended.
But that’s the beauty of music and poetry, isn’t it?
Once it’s out in the world, it belongs to everyone who listens,
to everyone who finds their own meaning in the lyrics"
A special thank you for the highland landscape https://unsplash.com/@martinbennie
There are moments in life when words aren’t enough to capture the depth of gratitude we feel. Today, I find myself sitting down to write something that has been long overdue a thank you to a group whose music has not only lived in my head but shaped my journey through the years. This letter is to you, Runrig, and the soul-stirring music you’ve gifted the world.
Your songs are more than just melodies; they are stories that breathe, spiritual reflections that dig deep into the essence of life. I’ve been listening for decades now, but the songs that you crafted—particularly those with spiritual and existential undertones—have stayed with me in a way few others have. In a world where so much of modern music focuses on fleeting pleasures, your work has always felt like a companion and reassuring voice.
Take The Cutter, for instance. Here is a story captured in one song, yet it feels like an entire epic. There’s something fascinating about how you wove narrative and reflection together, and I’ve returned to it over and felt the pain of the migrant torn by two worlds.
Then there’s Somewhere—a song that offers more than just music; it offers hope. Hope for something beyond this life, a hope that, for me, has become more precious with the years. That hope echoes my own beliefs, my own journey toward faith, and the deep longing for a life beyond what we can see.
Recently I was diagnosed with cancer. The consultant said, "You're very bravado about this?" I replied, "There's a young man inside me. His age I do not know. He has followed me throughout life and we have shared the same experiences and he convinces me that I have eternity in view."
Proterra is another masterpiece that I struggle to find words for. Every time I listen to it, I feel shivers down my spine. The music stirs something ancient within me, something that makes me feel as though I’m standing on the rockface and welcoming eternity for some unknown reason.
And how can I not mention Maymorning? It captures the joy of spring in the north, where we endure long, dark winters that test the soul. When the light finally returns, it feels this rebirth, The flowers, the sun, the landscape and the mood. like life coming back after it had long been forgotten. You captured that perfectly, giving voice to what many of us feel living through those seasonal changes.
Cearcal A' Chuain has always struck me with its social metaphor of sailing through life. The everyday is reflected here—our struggles, our perseverance—but so too is something much deeper, a reminder that life is about the journey, about navigating waters that are sometimes calm, sometimes stormy, but always meaningful.
In Search of Angels: This one has been especially powerful for me. It speaks to the existential angst we all face, the grappling with suffering, the endless search for answers, and ultimately the hope that something higher, something better, will come. It’s a song that reaches into the soul and pulls out questions many of us carry but rarely voice. For me, it reflects the longing for spiritual fulfilment that has been a constant thread throughout my life.
Finally, Life Is. A simple title, but what a message! Despite the hardships, the sorrows, the battles we fight, you’ve reminded us that there is another life waiting for us, just over that drystone dyke. And for me battling with terminal cancer, It’s a song that keeps me grounded, yet hopeful. It tells me that no matter how rough the path becomes, there is something better, something eternal, just ahead.
What’s always amazed me about your music is that, while it’s so deeply rooted in the Scottish language and Highland culture, the themes you touch upon are universal. Whether it’s the spirituality that shines through, the reflection on migration and longing for home, or the simple but profound connections we make as humans, your songs speak to everyone. You’ve managed to capture the heart of the Highland experience while also speaking to something shared by all of us, no matter where we’re from or what language we speak. That’s the true power of music—it crosses borders, transcends languages, and reaches into the very core of what it means to be human.
Perhaps I’ve read more into these songs than was ever intended. But that’s the beauty of music and poetry, isn’t it? Once it’s out in the world, it belongs to everyone who listens, to everyone who finds their own meaning in the lyrics. Your music has been with me since I was a boy, when I first discovered Play Gaelic while watching Can Seo on TV. And ever since, your songs have been more than just background noise—they’ve been companions through life’s highs and lows, offering comfort, joy, and hope.
Thank you, Runrig. Thank you for the joy, the reflection, and the spirit behind the music. You have been a blessing in ways that words cannot fully express.
With deepest gratitude,
Jim
Runrig - Life is hard (youtube.com)