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by
Alan Cohen
 When
a woman in a certain African tribe knows she is pregnant, she goes out
into the wilderness with a few friends and together they pray and meditate
until they hear the
song of the child. They recognize
that every soul has its own vibration that expresses its
unique flavor and purpose.
When the women attune to the song,
© Rassouli
they sing it out loud. Then they return to
the tribe and teach it to everyone else.
When the child is
born, the community gathers and sings the child's song to him or her.
Later, when the child enters education, the village
gathers and chants the
child's song When the child passes through the initiation to adulthood,
the people again come together and sing. At the time of
marriage, the person hears his or her song. Finally, when the
soul is about to pass from this world, the family and friends gather at
the person's bed, just as they did at their birth, and they sing the
person to the next life. When I have shared this story in my lectures, a
fair amount of people in the audience come to tears. There is something
inside each of us that knows we have a song, and we wish those we love
would recognize it and support us to sing it.
In some of my
seminars I ask people to verbalize to a partner the one phrase they wish
their parents had said to them as a child. Then the partner lovingly
whispers it in their ear. This exercise goes very deep, and many
significant insights start to click. How we all long to be loved,
acknowledged, and accepted for who we are!
In the African
tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the
child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime
or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the
village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then
they sing their song to them. The tribe recognizes that the
correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the
remembrance of identity When you recognize your own song, you have no
desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.
A friend is
someone who knows your song and sings it to you when you have forgotten
it. Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark
images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel
ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel
guilty; and your purpose when you are confused
One summer when I
was a teenager I went to visit my cousin and her family in Wilmington,
Delaware. One afternoon she took me to the community pool, where I met a
man who changed my life. Mr. Simmons talked to me for about ten minutes.
It wasn't what he said that affected me so deeply; it was how he listened
to me. He asked me questions about my life, my feelings, and my interests
The unusual
thing about Mr. Simmons was that he paid attention to my answers. Although
I had family, friends, and teachers, this man was the only person in my
world who seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say and valued me
for who I was. After our brief conversation I never saw him again. I
probably never will. I'm sure he had no idea that he gave me the gift of a
lifetime. Maybe he was one of those angels who show up for a brief mission
on earth, to give someone faith, confidence, and hope when they most need
it
If you do not
give your song a voice, you will feel lost, alone, and confused. If you
express it, you will come to life. We attract people on a similar
wavelength so we can support each other to sing aloud. Sometimes we
attract people who challenge us by telling us that we cannot or should not
sing our song in public. Yet these people help us too, for they stimulate
us to find greater courage to sing it.
You may not have
grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life
transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with
yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing
matches
your song, and
when you feel awful, it doesn't. In the end, we shall all recognize our
song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so
have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you'll find your way
home.
Alan
Cohen, M.A., is the author of 20 popular inspirational books
and tapes,
including the best-selling The Dragon Doesn't Live Here
Anymore and the
award-winning A Deep Breath of Life. He is a
contributing writer for the
New York Times best selling series
Chicken Soup for the Soul. Alan's
syndicated column, From the
Heart, appears in new thought magazines
internationally.
www.alancohen.com
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