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I am being stalked…by a few ex’s.  This bothered me for a while and while being bothered I paused. When I paused I counted my words….and as I counted I realised that I was being held ransom. I will take everyone’s feelings into consideration…..except when it comes to music. You can call me Mother Theresa, Florence, Nelson, Bishop Tutu…just never, ever when I sing. Writing music is confrontational at best. So when I sit down to compose music the truth of what I felt or feel will be known. And it is not always pretty…seeing who I was when I loved another or when I failed to love enough.

I never stalked anyone. Aside from dreaming about the people I feel very connected to, a strange thing happens. At times a song will present itself like a download. Who am I writing about or for, I wonder. Three or four months later…Boom!…the song makes sense. The music gave me a little snapshot of what’s coming. I still dream of my ex husband and what he gets up to if it matters. Of course everyone knows about my Ben Harper dreams….and even those were never wrong. ‘Ben, she can’t sing!’ I woke up shouting when I realised he was about to get married. Months before it was in the media!

Perhaps all artists know with certainty we don’t only exist in one realm. Our feet are planted in so many different planes, and our hearts scattered across time. We simply must create, must mould that energy into something. When I write like this I see a friend mentally shaking his head, ‘Bloody artist, bloody woman!’ he says. Nope buddy….I was always wired this way, even without the music. No one believes me though.

I am convinced we are given clues as to what’s about to arrive in our lives or what’s already there!  Perhaps it’s a billboard with the words: Watch Out! Or a song on the radio while shopping. The signs are always there waiting for us to just…stop. I will never forget a casino trip with a friend. There I was,smiling with a whiskey in hand, speaking to the locals when I thought of a friend who passed. Suddenly I was besieged with feelings of loss, I just missed her so much. Then the music stopped abruptly and another song started. The opening lines made me laugh so much, ‘Hello from the other side….’ That was followed by a song I know she loved! Confirmation was given in case I wondered if I was going mad you know…

My shaman is one of my close friends. Just a few days ago she says, ‘ When you even think you like a man, I would like to meet them first. I am tired of you calling broken men into your life. It’s time you called in someone who is good to you, good for you, a whole human being…’ This is not a dream I am about to share, but a life between lives kinda scenario. Stay with me while I explain. I was sitting with my guides as I recalled a past life where I was more than content and happy. Will I meet him again I asked. That depends on the choices both of you make, said my spirit guide.  The epiphany was this – I saw, felt and tasted music….and how my voice, and everything about who I was made him feel. And it was…glorious.

Things happen to us. This is what I realised. All manner of things and we have so little control. Perhaps we are not meant to have control. Perhaps we have to ride the energy and embrace the chaos. As all we can do is own our power, our mistakes, our hearts; what’s left of it and what we ache to give, to feel…without fear.

How does this metaphysical mumbo-jumbo translate into real life? I meet wonderful men, love them a little and run away. One could argue I am scared blah blah blah. One could argue many things but tell me….why would I not want to reach for what I felt when he loved me and I him? As we grew old together? When we were two whole human beings loving each other? Yes, nothing is random. Yes, at times we meet others and their gift to us is Crystal clear clarity. About who we are and what we want.

There was one question that caused sleepless nights, one damned question I could not shake! ‘Who do I have to be in order to be loved like that?’ Like attracts like after all. For a while I was convinced I needed to achieve more in my career to be worthy of that kind of love and devotion. Now…I know I am. More than worthy. Even if I never open my mouth to sing another note. I am worthy…..and so are you. And everything that happened to us happened. It does not make us less. Regardless of the shame, the guilt, the untruth we could not face about ourselves. We are worthy of being loved up and down. Adored. Madly. Silly. Songs should be written about you. Poems. Cakes made with your face on it. Floats erected and a New Orleans jazz band should follow you as you walk to get milk or water the garden.

That’s the kind of love everyone deserves and should reach for. Or I could just be crazy. But what I am not? What if….somewhere in a small street in an unknown part of the world….someone is sitting at a piano, or with a pen and paper writing  your name? Your beautiful name and it’s littered with fairy lights and kisses. And they already have the name of the band leader who is about to follow you as you walk….

 

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