when a song becomes an experience
I share - a lot.
I tell you stories, ones I think you might relate to and, from time to time, I’ll drop in a subtle statement that reflects the way I move through the world.
This week’s blog is not subtle. You might not be able to relate.
I’m writing it anyway.
I quite literally feel my way through the world, with my whole being, physical and energetic.
I never understood, before I developed my language and understanding, why I hated crowded spaces and sporting events. (Imagine a crowd of thousands with a collective anger at a referee coursing through your body when in reality you could not care less about a bad call.)
There were (and still are) visceral experiences in my life that I have zero explanation for.
I broke into tears one night as if I had lost someone dear to me, called all of my family desperate to make sure everyone was ok and once they were all accounted for, I kept crying more until, like someone flipped a switch, it was over. To this day, I have no explanation. The whole thing lasted almost 30 minutes.
I’ve had sensations and understandings about things that I’ve always trusted but couldn’t ever quite wrap my head around.
Another example: I remember during my first year of college, having a severe desire to get to a phone to call my younger sister (this was before cellular phones were in everyone’s pocket). I call home, my hand navigating to wrap around the necklace I am wearing that connects me to her and when she answers, the first words out of my mouth are “Tell me what happened”. Her response was to break down crying from a significant heartbreak that had happened earlier that day.
It’s not unusual for me to be overcome with an almost panic-like urgency to reach out to someone only to hear them answer “ How did you know I needed you?”.
I finish people’s sentences all the time, and/or summarize what they are saying with what they call the “perfect” word choice. It’s almost like it’s fed to me from another place - I never feel the right to claim “ownership” of said word or summary. It’s as if I can “read” the energy of the words they are searching for.
I hear nuances most people don’t. I see things most people pass by. It’s how I’m wired. I don’t know any other way to hear or see. I don’t know how to “unknow” these things.
What I take as normal turns out to be anything but ordinary.
Over the last few years, as I’ve delved more into meditation, spiritual growth and personal development, I’ve opened a deeper connection with myself and with my intuition.
I’ve shed many layers of stories and identities. I do it so quickly now that I feel almost like a completely new human being every day, having learned, seen, heard or integrated some new level of understanding.
It happens so often and yet each one is significant and meaningful. Even the tiniest things like the sip of coffee before my first skydive that brought tears to my eyes. I could literally taste the love and care the barista had invested. Sheer delight.
I just finished a second audio book (I’m officially obsessed) called How to be Here by Rob Bell. I’m a huge fan of his podcast called, appropriately, the RobCast. Rob’s roots are in being a pastor and I’m a particular fan of his translation of the Bible which I’ve never understood.
All Bible references aside, the man is a remarkable speaker, writer and a joy to listen to. This book specifically talks about the art of presence and taking the opportunity to BE in the moment. To get out of doing and to get back to being.
This was one of my primary actions in 2017 so this book was a great way, after The Surrender Experiment by Michael Singer I told you about last week, to carry me into 2018.
So now, combine my finishing of this book on presence, right after completing a book on surrender, with my finely-tuned intuitive feelers on high and you get the following story.
It’s an odd one. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I don’t have words to explain most of what happened so I’ll do my very best to try and translate it for you and know that I’m walking into this effort knowing it will be clunky.
I don’t know why I’m sharing this. There’s a low grade rumble of the inner voice rising as I’m on the verge of typing this out and still, one of my pillars for 2018 is spreading the word. So my friends, this is the word this week.
I had just dropped my girls off at school and I took the opportunity during my quiet drive to connect with one of my soul tribe members; those beautiful people in my inner circle where I can always just be, find solace and show up exactly how I am with no excuse or explanation.
As we were disconnecting the call, I’m on my Apple headset and I hit the hangup/speaker button and the music on my iPhone unexpectedly turns on. It’s a stunning Deva Premal song I love called Gayatri Mantra that reminds me of another important member of my soul tribe.
As if the song is a gift for me in the moment, I surrender and let it keep playing, welcoming the sound of it. I relax into the song as I’m coming off the freeway. I’m waiting at the red light when something happens.
Goosebumps cover my flesh in a pleasant way, a signal for me to pay closer attention and I lean in to the sensation.
In a breath, while my physical body is sitting in my car, I am not.
I am expansive - not made of flesh and blood but pure energy capable of being all things and nothing. Breathtakingly soulful, present, aware and unbound.
A name of another tribe member flits across my mind. I can feel his joy from thousands of miles away - instantly. I check in energetically on another tribe member dropping a bit of love upon them and come back to the car - the traffic light has changed and I’m aware that I have to be present enough to make the physical body in the vehicle move with the flow of traffic.
I am suddenly conscious that movement by car seems remedial. I’m joyfully fascinated by how inefficient and silly this form of travel seems to me at the moment. Like an infant is fascinated by the discovery of her foot. “Ooh, I’m in a box, it moves when I press a pedal and turn a wheel.”
Another red light gives me the chance to free myself again. I close my eyes, just being. I feel no sensation of mass or gravity. I don’t feel physically contained. I feel lifted, ethereal, transcended.
When the light changes again and I know I have to move, I can only describe the sensation as “coming to”. My face is wet from tears I didn’t know I was shedding. I feel a residual vibration in my body of pure joy and radiance. I move my physical body very slowly, aware of each muscle and movement.
I am in awe of the experience. The song continues, carrying me back home.
Another incident, a few moments after arriving home, has me in a similar state. This one however is not external, this one, as if to prove the difference, is showing me the same sensations contained in a physical body. It’s like when you were a kid and put PopRocks in your mouth for the first time - my whole body felt that way; explosive and piqued.
I can’t describe this overwhelming bliss, I know only that it was.
I took a branding quiz for my business once that was archetype-based from Cerries Mooney. I loved it. I feel a kinship with Cerries. I love her work.
During that process, I discovered I’m an Explorer and an Alchemist.
This story is an example of how I move through the world. Exploring what’s possible; transmuting and transforming until I find the right formula.
My experience in this story reconfirms for me, that I’m on the right path.
Why share this with you now? Again, I don’t know. I’m trusting if you’re reading this that you are more likely to know why, than I am. I am merely doing the part I have been called to do; to tell you it’s possible, because I’ve been there.
I also think I could show you the way, if you wanted to follow.