This year, we closed the concert and our tour with Those Were the Days. The audience sang with us, cried with us, laughed at Brian’s comic moment, and at the end of the song, they stood up and applauded for a long time.
We all felt moved, elevated, expanded, our hearts opened up a little bit more to all different emotions. It was beautiful. It was such an experiential reminder of how beautiful it is to be fully human – allowing ourselves to drop our guards for a moment.
Three days and two sleepless nights of travel later, I sang an Ave Maria from the choir loft of a traditional Catholic church – as a prelude to the funeral of my late husband’s dad. I started out calm and composed, intending to share the beautiful prayer through my singing.
The people who gathered were quiet. Everything was solemn and still. I noticed how the first few notes of the melody produced by my breath and my vocal chords filled the space of the church and reflected off the walls, creating beautiful reverberation.
The movement of the sound waves stirred up the air. It resonated and vibrated through everything, shook and shattered the thin protective layer around my heart, and released a whole lot of love from it.
In a moment, I felt connected with the unseen, transformed, mystical, sacred, eternal Love and Life. I opened up a little bit more and let it flow through me.
This year, we closed the concert and our tour with Those Were the Days. The audience sang with us, cried with us, laughed at Brian’s comic moment, and at the end of the song, they stood up and applauded for a long time.
We all felt moved, elevated, expanded, our hearts opened up a little bit more to all different emotions. It was beautiful. It was such an experiential reminder of how beautiful it is to be fully human – allowing ourselves to drop our guards for a moment.
Three days and two sleepless nights of travel later, I sang an Ave Maria from the choir loft of a traditional Catholic church – as a prelude to the funeral of my late husband’s dad. I started out calm and composed, intending to share the beautiful prayer through my singing.
The people who gathered were quiet. Everything was solemn and still. I noticed how the first few notes of the melody produced by my breath and my vocal chords filled the space of the church and reflected off the walls, creating beautiful reverberation.
The movement of the sound waves stirred up the air. It resonated and vibrated through everything, shook and shattered the thin protective layer around my heart, and released a whole lot of love from it.
In a moment, I felt connected with the unseen, transformed, mystical, sacred, eternal Love and Life. I opened up a little bit more and let it flow through me.
l felt the stirring of other hearts who were present there, and the oneness that is revealed when we push through pain and grief, find each other there, slip into deep surrender, and bump into Love and Life (and God) itself.
When I finished, my voice broke. I hadn’t done this in a long time, and it felt good. I served as a musician and as a soul. And I was rewarded by a cleansing and purifying wave of tears.
I was grateful for the fact that music has the power to help us let go and feel a whole range of (beautiful) human emotions.
The two following days of being with the family in shared grief and love were hard. But we were there together – I got to hold my sons and reflect on the good times we had with grandpa.
Life is full of goodbyes. Resisting makes them harder. Honoring the emotional pain, trusting, and leaning into love brings comfort.
l felt the stirring of other hearts who were present there, and the oneness that is revealed when we push through pain and grief, find each other there, slip into deep surrender, and bump into Love and Life (and God) itself.
When I finished, my voice broke. I hadn’t done this in a long time, and it felt good. I served as a musician and as a soul. And I was rewarded by a cleansing and purifying wave of tears.
I was grateful for the fact that music has the power to help us let go and feel a whole range of (beautiful) human emotions.
The two following days of being with the family in shared grief and love were hard. But we were there together – I got to hold my sons and reflect on the good times we had with grandpa.
Life is full of goodbyes. Resisting makes them harder. Honoring the emotional pain, trusting, and leaning into love brings comfort.
Music
Here’s a song for you (from last year’s Waking Up In America tour):
Here’s a song for you (from last year’s Waking Up In America tour):
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AND live your dream life.
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event updates directly to your inbox.