Finding Myself in Sly Stone: How Music Saved Me in My Darkest Hour
Finding Myself in Sly Stone: How Music Saved Me in My Darkest Hour
Discover how the music of Sly Stone became a lifeline during my darkest days, guiding me through loneliness, self-reflection, and ultimately back to myself.
How Sly Stone's Music Guided Me Through Loneliness and Led Me Home
Music has always been more than just sound to me—it's been a friend, a confidant, and at times, a lifeline. Last week, I was reminded of this when I watched an insightful documentary on Hulu about Sly Stone. Questlove, who's been creating some incredible documentaries lately—including the 50th Anniversary SNL Musical Documentary—captured something raw and deeply resonant in Sly's story. It took me back to a time when Sly's music wasn't just something I enjoyed—it was something I desperately needed.
The album There’s A Riot Goin’ On was born from a dark place in Sly’s life, filled with lyrics about feeling trapped, isolated, and desperately seeking escape. No track resonated more with my personal struggle than "Running Away."
Running away to get away
Ha-ha, ha-ha, You're wearing out your shoes
Look at you fooling you
These lyrics became a mirror during one of the toughest years of my life. After graduating from the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California, I was sent to Goodfellow Air Force Base in Texas for temporary duty. The days there felt endless and empty—classes, poker, and drinking became my only routines. My fiancée had recently left for her own military assignment in Georgia, and though neither of us wanted to admit it, our relationship was already unraveling.
The loneliness was suffocating. Instead of addressing the underlying emptiness I felt, I chose to numb myself with alcohol, spiraling deeper into reckless behavior. One night, that recklessness caught up to me—I lied about my rank during a traffic stop on base and was swiftly court-martialed. Suddenly, the small circle of friends that had kept me grounded was gone, as I was forcibly moved to dorms filled with strangers. The isolation became overwhelming.
Every morning felt heavier than the last, each awakening more painful than the previous. But through it all, There’s A Riot Goin’ On, especially the song "Running Away," was my constant companion.
The deeper in debt, the harder you bet
You need more room to play
This lyric echoed loudly within me, a reminder of the universal truth I'd ignored: my destructive habits weren’t solving my pain—they were amplifying it. Each drink, each irresponsible choice, was a temporary fix that led to deeper suffering. I wasn’t addressing my loneliness or my pain—I was hiding from it. And each time the pain resurfaced, it did so with increased urgency.
Shorter cut is quicker but
Ha-ha, ha-ha, Time is here to stay
That "ha-ha, ha-ha" stung because it spoke directly to my denial. There was no shortcut around accountability. Time, unyielding and relentless, forced me to confront the consequences of my choices. The realization was painful, yet necessary: the only way forward was to stop running from myself.
That period of forced solitude turned into an unexpected gift, a crucible for genuine reflection. I finally understood that the peace I desperately sought could only come from within. I had to learn to sit with my loneliness, embrace it, and accept myself—flaws and all. That dark chapter ultimately reshaped me, teaching me to love myself authentically before expecting love from others.
Now, when I listen to "Running Away," the lyrics no longer remind me of a desperate escape. Instead, they highlight the courage it takes to stop running, to stand still, and face what you've been avoiding. I'm deeply grateful to Sly Stone for creating music that spoke so profoundly to me when I needed it most. His music wasn't just my soundtrack—it was my solace, my guide, and ultimately, the beacon that led me back to myself.
Smoky white bean stew over creamy polenta, finished with roasted sweet potato, Korean pickled radish, a sour cream drizzle, and fresh lime. A bold fusion bowl that hits every note.
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