This is a reprint of the feature article from my May newsletter.
Trance Music
A friend is someone who knows your song and sings it to you when you have forgotten it. —Alan Cohen
Have you noticed the contrasting images that surfaced in the media this last month? On the one hand, Susan Boyle captured the hearts of the world by opening her mouth and sharing her beautiful voice with all of us—even after we judged and laughed at her. On the other hand, we’ve been swamped with photos of people wearing masks over their mouths to protect against the outbreak of swine flu. These photos are metaphors for the way that fear “masks” our voice and self-expression.
I first watched Susan Boyle with curiosity. As she talked backstage before the show, she seemed an odd mix of childlike openness and old-fashioned British countryside. But as she walked out on stage and began talking, my whole body began to constrict. The judges and the audience members rolled their eyes, sneered and laughed—at her age, her clothing, her hip-shaking responses to their questions. I felt pure dread in my stomach when I heard her say she wanted to be like Elaine Page, the first lady of British musical theater. I found that I projected my own fear of failure and rejection outward in anger toward the judges and audience (I love defending the underdog).
Then when Susan began to sing in her deep, resonant voice, a sense of awe and wonder rose from a deep place inside of me—a place even deeper than the fear place. I felt so genuinely moved in that moment. My fears transformed to an almost ecstatic delight. My heart stirred and my body felt the vibration of her song. I was resonating with Susan, hanging on each note. She could have been Godzilla and it would not have mattered. In sharing her song, she looked and felt beautiful to me.
And I was not the only one. The audience was moved to tears. The judges could not stop talking about their own surprise and thrill. The feeling in the room was one of truth and love, not fear. Susan Boyle’s song had the power to move us all past our fears and judgments to the place where our own dreams live.
We all have a dream, whether we are aware of it or not. We were each born with a “heart’s desire,” and it is up to us to express that desire while we are here. This is our legacy to ourselves and the world.
How do we connect to that legacy?
First by connecting to our own unique song.
Ancient traditions, and some contemporary ones, teach that each living being has their own song. Through the vibration of these songs, there is a way to communicate beyond words, to respond to the resonance of the essence of that being.
In his book Wisdom of the Heart, Alan Cohen describes this phenomenon in an African tribe. Before birth, a child’s song is discovered by the women in the community. It is sung to the child at birth, and at all life and death passages. When a person commits a crime, the village gathers in a circle and sings that person’s song. “The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.”
When our “masks” of fear show up, often in the form of judgments, projections, or (as Amanda noted on Britain’s Got Talent) cynicism, our true song cannot be heard.
Susan Boyle’s song demonstrated freedom from fear, freedom from masks. By just being who she was, she took us beyond our masks, our judgments and labels and biases, to our deepest feelings and essences. To where we felt a universal connection to humanity.
So how do we let go of our masks on our own terms?
Name them as you discover them. Don’t shove them back into the cave, but sit with them at the campfire and discover their story. Accept them and see them for their true size, not as a looming shadow in the dark.
Feel the feelings that come up. Notice especially the uncomfortable sensations in your body. Tune in. Inside each of us, there is a whole world of priceless information just waiting to be recognized, heard and felt. By acknowledging your feelings, you give them permission to soften. Until you acknowledge them, they will scream and crash to get your attention.
As the masks begin to fall away, notice what wants to come through you. What gives you the deepest pleasure, stops time, brings you alive? What are your gifts, talents and treasures? Spend some time remembering and also inviting forgotten passions back into your life. Literally write down your dreams, so your unconscious can assist you in the process of reclaiming your song.
This is your path to conscious awakening. Our treasures are in our gifts and our songs, not in our possessions, acquisitions, or external recognition. And the paradox is that when you value your own song, it will magnetize others to do the same. Your song will actually radiate energy out from you, in the same way that your heroes—whether the Dalai Lama, Barack Obama, Michelle Obama or Susan Boyle—radiate fields of energy that magnetize you.
As J.K. Rowling, quoting Plutarch, said in her commencement address at Harvard last year, "What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality. We do not need magic to transform our world. We carry all the power we need inside ourselves.”
Life does not need to be hard. That is the old tape. We are not here to suffer, to resist, to strive, to survive. We are here to thrive, to sing our songs, to play from our passion, to taste the fruit of knowing. The only “sin” is our cynicism. We can sing our own songs and those of our friends, family and community. And the world will applaud.
References
Alan Cohen, Wisdom of the Heart, (Carlsbad, CA: Hay House, 2002)
J.K. Rowling, 2008 commencement speech at Harvard, http://www.the-leaky-cauldron.org/2008/6/5/entire-text-of-j-k-rowling-harvard-commencement-speech-now-online, accessed May 3, 2009
Recent Comments