I told my girlfriend today that I need to silence my mind. It’s always buzzing with ideas about what I should do, where and what needs investigation. It is tiring. All these ideas around music drive me crazy. I can hear them you see. The melodies that drift in the ethers waiting to be anchored to my voice….
Can it be done? And if so, who with? I heard it being said by a lecturer that hope is a ‘who with…’ That really stuck and was jotted in my notebook. Often times I ask to be shown the way, through dreams, by seemingly random things and events that quietly ask me to pay attention. For the last few weeks all has been silent, but my mind.
The concept of divine timing is real. I can recall with precise accuracy how every single person who shifted my life entered, how and when they left. That moment when lines were drawn in the sand…felt orchestrated by a hand with greater reach than I could ever imagine.
I have always felt alone. Despite all the friends I make easily and the manly distractions. Being able to hear and feel keeps me sane. So I look within and find music and words so I can root myself, even if only for a while. Or I ask for dreams and consult my tarot cards. Once in meditation, while messing with my cards, I heard a voice saying rather clearly (this does happen when I am dialled in) , ‘Do you think you can find all the answers here?’ No, life surprises all the time. Often we can never know if the choices made are the right ones. All I can do is feel it in my skin, when words fail and my world becomes silent.
Right now I feel….rested and calm. This is not the time to rush and make plans. To reach out and dig. When I mention this to friends they look at me as though I am mad. You need to work and earn money! This means…being busy and doing shit. Yet, my internal clock says…chill the fuck out. Make food, look for recipes and send your daughter weird YouTube videos. Speak when you have something to say to someone.
And I don’t speak often. Ironic, seeing that I write everyday and it seems as though I will never run out of words. I told Alan, Gilda’s son, that by the time I speak to anyone I am clear and calm. As I have written enough words and music. When I don’t speak, no longer write or sing….then something is very wrong. Then it feels like my chest is on fire. When I am in deep distress it’s bronchitis that decides to pay me a visit. This happened only once so far, thank goodness.
Divine timing indeed. I have requested a few very big experiences from the gods. Yet I no longer push to make it happen. I will wake up as I do most days, with small and big prayers for myself and everyone I love. The one thing my Mother taught me was to never lose hope and that I carry not only in my voice but with every little thing I do.Life has become a meditation, a prayer I realised. A perpetual quest for hope….for the who with.
I do know that being wired this way does not make life any easier. I wonder how the average person can pick up and go so easily. Move from one place to the other, one person to another. I would rather take my time, mourn and grieve for a small while longer; checking my review mirror constantly before I leave a place, person or way of being. This has always been my way.
If my life is a meditation or prayer of sorts, it is best I not rush. It is best I paused as I feel the prayer beads between my fingers….and listen to my body. When it’s time to go, my bags are already packed and everything I want to leave behind is out of sight….and I… more ready to leave than I could ever imagine. Perfectly in sync with my own divine timing and the world around me. Armed with the only thing that matters – hope.