When Cummings says quiet choices “become music,” he turns personal action into aesthetic form. Music here isn’t merely sound; it is pattern, coherence, and felt consequence—proof that something internal has been arranged into an experience. This aligns with how many traditions treat music as ordered movement through time, not simply noise.
As a result, meaning is portrayed as something that can be composed out of the ordinary. A day can acquire “melody” when decisions relate to each other—when they form a motif rather than scattered reactions, creating a sense of intention you can almost hear. [...]
