Last summer at this time my son and I found out that an Iranian family that lived down the street was moving, and, being focused at the time on rediscovering how I related to my own Jewish roots on my father’s side, as well as my Sufi heritage that comes from all that I was marinated in during my gestation and the first two years of my life, I composed a song called Salaam Alekum, Shalom Alehem. In its composition phase - read, my improvisionally singing as I walked, a Jewish woman overheard it and delighted in it, saying, “I heard that angelic singing, and it was you!" My son helped put chords to the melody I composed and on moving day, I invited my son to join me with his ukulele and we sang the song to the Iranian family. The mother of the family gifted me a painting her husband has made with a Hafiz line written on it in golden-platinum swirls that are beautiful without knowing how to read Farsi.
This year a new family moved in. I met the mother on a difficult day for me, and we instantly had a very deep talk of an authentic nature that ended with a big hug. She shared she had moved here after leaving an abusive marriage and started a new job. I shared stuff on my heart too. This past Friday evening, I’d had a hunch to invite my husband and son the part to make some music, but I got tired, as I’ve had trouble sleeping for a while, and was led to have us all leave after only a short span of time. On the way home, the new-ish neighbor was out mowing her lawn. She was slightly bummed she’d declined going to a downtown event along with her daughter, but we had a delightful convo and she got to meet my husband for the first time. She and my son were chatting about things he has in common with her daughter and about his ukulele, which he had with him. I told her my doorstep is available for her stop by, bringing a drink and say hello anytime, and that she might even get a concert. My son upped the anti and offered to play her song at that exact moment. I invited my husband to join, since he also had his guitelele. I felt some internal resistance, but I decided to join in and sing. My son choose the song “Unity” to play for her. It’s a song my husband and I know too. And it’s a great one. I may post it here sometime if he does a recording of it. It is about taking down walls and building bridges; about fighting with our love, not our hate. It’s about understanding the forces that try to tear us down and apart - and not letting them. It is about standing up for love when giving into lower things would be the path of least resistance. In this way, it about knowing what the heck we are fighting for, and that by fighting we mean choosing love when it isn’t easy.
The woman, I’ll call her Jeanette, said we made her night.
Sometimes loving ourselves and believing we are worthy of love can be as hard or harder than loving others when they feel or act in ways that are challenging for us.
I had a realization rather suddenly that I believed I wasn’t worthy to be loved in relation to a particular thing. In the dynamic itself I never would have guessed this was the root, but when I meditated on it, it suddenly popped in. It’s not like I haven’t worked on this one before, it’s just that I got in a whole new way. And as I was able to practice it, something magickal happened. The whole dynamic changed - instantly.
I am worthy to be loved and worthy to love
So are you.
I am worthy to be loved and to love