Hearing Our Own Music

When I am in the midst of chasing around, I find that I more easily pay attention to the busyness around me. I fall into line with whatever shows up as the norm because I am paying less attention to that still small voice within.

In this autumnal season of dying, resting and slowing down, in the midst the ever-darkening beauty of its colors, I find myself quieting, paying more attention to my own personal rhythms. My movements beginning to follow another pattern ~ one I alone seem to be hearing. Or, if others are hearing it, we haven't taken note of each other!

Also, as I grow ever older and into whoever that older person is becoming, I am less concerned about people noticing me dancing ~ or talking to myself ~ or answering myself ~ or, well, everyone has those actions they do that allow others to step aside or join in. My actions may be different from yours, or from those around me, but they originate from the same place.

I've also been privileged to have many friends who are artists in various arenas from spoken to written to visual to musical. They have taught me to be less concerned about what others may think and more concerned about where my heart and soul ~ where that vague Being I call the Divine ~ is leading me. As I write this, I recall that one of those artists is no longer with us: a beautiful, smiling, gentle soul who danced alone on an empty dance floor simply as the music moved her. She is a guardian angel guiding me ~ and perhaps others who knew her ~ to listen for and respond to the music I hear.

What kind of music do you hear? How do you respond? Are you concerned with what others may think of you? How do you respond to those who dance or mutter to their own music? How could you respond more freely or spontaneously to your music?