There's a paragraph in a book I'm reading that wonderfully describes this precious spiritual connection (while pointing out the challenges of navigating reality with a music-tuned mind). The book is Making Notes: Music of the Carolinas, and the writer is Kevin Winchester. Brilliant, brilliant stuff, I must say ...
"If you have a choice between music and becoming a heroin addict, pick the smack, it's healthier. Once the music monkey gets on your back, it'll cut a wide path. It'll break your heart, tempt you, tease you, make you miserable and will probably destroy everything around you not related to music. But ohhh, when it's right. when you rake that chord or hit the G run, when the day draws down and a note rings crystal clear as the October air; when the band's sweaty, all lathered up and funky, and the crowd, no matter if it's one or a hundred, is right there with you .... it all comes together and you close your eyes and just feel it and you're gone. Transported, free, sailing above it all, and even if you're not religious, in that moment you know what God is. There are no words to describe it, but it's as real and beautiful and right as anything could be. It's that golden spike in the vein, chasing the dragon, nirvana. It's catching smoke in your hand, and once you've been there, the rest of your life is spent reaching."
That's it, we're always reaching. And hopefully grasping those moments of musical magic as often as possible.