So Simple Part 1: The Wind Chimes In | Song Story
- Wiso
- Jun 1
- 4 min read
Jamaica, May 2013
It was the second day of my “vacation” in the Blue Mountains of Jamaica and my friend Buru
was ready to go play some Music. After breakfast and a cup of strong Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee, we headed up the hill to find a quiet spot off trail to jam for a while.
At the time, I had no idea how important that day would eventually become in my life.
Before we left, I decided I wanted to warm up with a song that had recently arrived called “So Simple.”
Rewind: Colorado, March 2013
The entire song started as a riff I couldn’t get out of my head.
Dun dun da duna dun dun da duna…
It repeated itself constantly for days until I finally sat down with the guitar to work it out
properly. The second the riff came through the instrument, something in me relaxed. The groove felt easy. Light. Familiar somehow.
I started playing it constantly.
At first, there were no lyrics at all. Just the riff, some harmonics, a little breakdown section, and a feeling I couldn’t fully explain yet. I would sit with the song for long stretches simply because it made me feel connected.
So simple.
Eventually, after hearing me play it over and over, one of my friends laughed and said:
“I’m going to get food. Write the lyrics by the time I get back.”
For whatever reason, that challenge landed perfectly.
I grabbed my notebook, played the riff a few more times, and asked for the words connected to the feeling of the song. Almost immediately, I began hearing a heartbeat underneath the guitar. Later I realized it settled naturally at 90 beats per minute.
Then the lyrics arrived all at once.
The whole thing came through in what felt like less than five minutes, as though I was sitting in the middle of an orchestra already playing the song somewhere beyond me.
The message itself was incredibly simple:
breathe,
slow down,
pay attention,
participate,
grow naturally,
follow Love instead of fear.
At the time, I didn’t realize how much I would spend the next decade relearning those same
lessons over and over again.
The first time I played the completed song from beginning to end, the energy in the room shifted dramatically. Everything in the house got completely still — dogs, cats, snakes, all of it. Every hair on my body stood up. It felt like the song was doing something to me while I played it.
Healing something maybe.
Whatever it was, I knew immediately that the song mattered deeply to me.
By the time my friend returned, I was ridiculously excited to share it.
I remember blurting out:
“Are you ready?”
She laughed.
Then I played the song and that was basically it. “So Simple” immediately became a mantra in my life.
Ironically, things were about to become much more complicated.
Fast Forward: Jamaica, May 2013
A couple months later, Buru and I sat down on a mountain overlooking Jamaica with an iPad
recording and a guitar between us.
As soon as I started playing, everything around us got strangely calm.
The birds quieted.
The wind disappeared.
Even the atmosphere itself seemed to settle into stillness.
Then I reached the chorus:
“Breath in the air with me…”
The wind arrived instantly.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
Just… responsively.
It felt like the mountain was listening.
As the song continued, the wind seemed to interact directly with different moments in the Music. Sometimes it would build during the chorus, sometimes it would soften during the verses, and sometimes it would disappear entirely for a few seconds before returning again right alongside the word “breathe.”
At one point, Buru looked over at me with the biggest smile on his face because we both realized something unusual was happening.
By the final chorus, the wind was moving so strongly that the entire mountain seemed to dance with the song. Then, just as suddenly as it arrived, everything became still again at the very end.
Well… almost.
I fumbled the outro a little bit and the wind gifted us one final burst as if to laugh with us before disappearing again completely.
Whatever happened that afternoon changed me.
Not because I felt like I had “proven” something, but because the experience reminded me how participatory life can feel when we slow down enough to genuinely listen.
Since that day, “So Simple” has followed me everywhere.
And interestingly enough, the wind still seems to enjoy the song.
Nearly every time I play it outdoors, some version of that same relationship quietly returns. At this point, I’ve stopped trying to explain it and simply learned to appreciate it.
The older I get, the more I realize that “So Simple” was never really trying to teach me anything complicated in the first place.
Breathe.
Listen.
Pay attention.
Participate.
Grow naturally.
So simple.
If you would like to watch the raw video of the experience in Jamaica, I’ve included it below so you can experience the moment for yourself.
Love and Respect,
Wiso
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