Hello dear ones,
Today I feel like being a bit personal. I’m in a November mood, feeling gray like the weather….
Yesterday, nestled in my warm bed, came the impulse to draw a tarot card:
The Hanged Man. Yes, exactly! That’s how I felt. Pause, dropping the old leaves, surrender….
Today I crawled tiredly out of my bed, walked into the kitchen to enjoy my faithful morning coffee. Oh you sacred plant!
The meditation room was already open, the candles burning, the enveloping scent of Japanese incense in the air and the warm reassuring voice of my husband Martin already sounding.
This has been my first Song of the day for 35 years, my first vocal exercise.
Chanting in the morning is one of the not negotiable things for me. In all those years when I was frozen in front of the piano and could not practice, when the desire to sing every day was suffocating me, it was the daily chanting that saved me. In chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, I was free. My voice was the key to transformation, it was the one that accompanied me every day from darkness to light, it was the inner healer that made my tired cells vibrate again and reconnected me day by day with the voice of my soul.
And now my lotus flower is growing out of the mud.
It is November, I feel tired and like the hanged man, but my voice wants to sing, to sound, to show itself. When we closed the doors of the altar, my body and my breathing begin to move. Sighs become little melodies.
I don’t fight my fatigue, nor my gray mood, to sound beautiful and powerful.
I lie on the ground and allow the sounds to come out faithfully, just as my state is right now. My voice wants to grow from the soil of authenticity, no lies now, no masks. Today, thankfully, I’m too tired and too gray for that.
Only the miracle that emerges, when I give myself the radical acceptance of all that I am.
In gratitude and honor