Today I wrote a song. It is almost , at least to me, like an old spiritual chant. It repeats a pattern twice, a third apart and then has a refrain. The words in the two sections of the refrain are, “Love your neighbor as yourself” and “stand as all as one as equal” ( equal is two syllables, but it might work ). I played the violin part for my son and he said it was nice. Will I put it together? And sing?
Sometimes when I sing, and I am not a singer ( which is silly because we are all singers ), my voice starts to vibrate, but other times it is tense and the sound is forced. Most of the time it is forced. But I notice when it starts to vibrate, where it has more resonance, I am gentle with my self. Focus on this gentleness while singing brings out the more resonant/vibrating voice. It really is the same with playing the violin.
So, my sister called me today. My friend/man had called her and expressed concern for me. That I was too involved in this group called Desteni.
Meanwhile, I, isolated in my house, with the inclement weather, became anxious today, and worried, and scared. My circle of people in my life, here on the Cape, was growing smaller. Because I can’t turn back from finding my self. And in this I am wondering about my financial future. And I just finished my taxes, and the federal financial aid form for the boys for school. The juggling, that I do continues, with my money. And here I am walking away from all that I know, with none of the structures of support I have followed as what I see/have been taught as the norm.
This “wave” of worry and fear came as I started to practice, and I could hardly play, as though the instrument was a foreign object in my hand. I stopped and did forgiveness on these fears, and they remain but the total possession of them is not consuming me. These fears do not hold answers, nor are they here in what is necessary to direct my self forward. It is almost as though these worryings and fears are a real pain in the ass, because they just veil everything.
The payers of the onion, interesting, I wanted to write layers of the onion and I wrote payers of the onion??? Well, I am pissed at the payers of the onion, there is no question about that, and most of the worries and fears I have are about money. But the “payers” of the onion, this “onion” , even if they keep “paying” and “creating” the onion, cannot stop the gentle movement of my self, peeling away the layers of the onion.
I have to keep breathing my self into being here, and not a worrying/fearing/nail bitting/anxious reflection of incapability/limitation/solve-the-future-all-at-once-here-in-this-moment-projection/tired/just want to go to sleep/insecure energetic mass.