The gifts of this challenging year

The power of love and music

Om Tare Tutarre Ture Soha!

One of the most beautiful experiences of this year was overcoming my belief that I could not sing, and realizing that while my voice may not be concert-reliable, when I am in a higher consciousness state, consecrating my voice to service, either miraculously I sound better than I used to, or if I also am nervous, I sound offkey, but if my heart is pure, the beauty transmits no matter and to good effect on others.

On the 4th, my husband, son and I sang in the park, informally. One of our neighbors stopped by on the way to get her mom a donut from the table of goodies. She could only find a cookie, so I smiled and told her, “Well you can always punch a hole through it.” We have a lot of donut hole jokes at home. What is totally enlightened and won’t your arteries or your waist to thicken?

A donut hole.

We had one listener who sat down for all our songs, before I went home and the boys continued on, closer to the main stage, a place not quite my vibe. He was a lovely older man who is a courier for the postal service. He was visibly moved and told us how beautiful the music was. “Keep doing it,” He said. Later I saw him on his doorstep on a walk a took. We had a beautifully deep talk about his cancer and regrets, about love and forgiveness and about quantum physics. He has a Phd related to the microbiomes of pastoral animals, but there was no funding for it back then, so he works in the mail service.

Another memory is of playing our music in a tree at the Arboretum. It is a huge, massive tree that grows these amazing mushroom disks. Some have become integrated into the wood they look like partial fossils, only more wood than the stone like feel of fossil, but long beyond the fungal form. We played and sang for the earth, for the trees, the lake, the birds, and also for the people who might feel our vibration when they walked there. A couple who’d jogged past called out through the trees much later than when we’d first seen him pass nearby and told us how much they liked the music. They might have said we sounded great, but all I remember for sure is they resonated with it and went out of their way to tell us so through layers of woodland.

Children resonate most especially with our son’s music. The adults only get it if they are aging hippies, spiritually connected consciously, childlike at heart or all of the above. One day I watched him play and sing by the library and a whole group of children stopped to listen, with rapt wonder in their eyes. Another day we sang/played outside the coffee shop and another group of children, including a young girl who seemed especially taken with him and his music. Later in the summer my husband son played without me on the same day I had the wonder-filled conversation with the older feller with the soulful heart from Texas. They were led where they went; I was led where I want, yet circles of light were expanding and completing with ripples of divinity choreographing ALL of us through the power of loving, synchronicity and openness to divine alignment and flow. When my husband and son returned, my teenage son was carrying a beautiful red flower that the same young girl from the coffee shop had given to him in honor of his musical sharing.