for me, which I will share with you throughout our journey together. As my creative journey matured, I learned how to incorporate these new perspectives. For example, by moving to California I encountered African music masters who introduced me to a playful freedom where “wrong” notes are understood simply as what chose to show up at that moment. Touring with bansuri maestro Deepak Ram, I witnessed the unabashedly spiritual foundation of Indian music, where surrender to the divine is second nature. Living in Cyprus and Iraq and traveling all over the Middle East, I participated in the ecstatic communing of that region’s music, where the self, the ego, is not the focus. These were the oases I strung together to form a new continent of creativity. Eventually these diverse influences coalesced into an ethos I could live by. Each of these influences is mighty in its own right; together, they form a lifeline guiding me through today’s labyrinthine world.
My most pointed ally intervention came from my mother. At twenty-one, I was three years into my music-abandonment period. I met Phyllis — I’ve always called my mum by her first name; my parents’ college friends addressed her that way, which I copied before she realized what was happening — for an afternoon drink. We convened at the prophetically named Orbit Room in San Francisco. At the crossroads of five busy streets and encased in massive glass windows, the place feels like you’re floating in space and time. And that’s where I was, lost in space, tethered to the world only by an as-yet-unseen star.
Phyllis got to the point: “What happened to you and music? It used to be everything to you.”
A couple of glasses of wine in, I began to weep. Lost years weighed on me, failure leered, desire rose in me, only to be dashed: “I’m too old to go back.” Phyllis looked at me incredulously. In my mind, you needed to have won a piano competition by my age to even imagine having a professional career. That was out of the question, with my shattered nerves. Case closed.
Quietly, Phyllis said, “You’re only too old if you think you’re too old.”
You’re only too old if you think you’re too old.
I don’t know why this got through to me, but something clicked right there and then. My limited thinking suddenly felt like chains I had locked on myself. The contradiction was untenable: here I was trying to help other people — some of them old enough to be my grandparents — to reclaim their power while privately destroying my own. I surrendered. The fact was, as crazy as it sounded, I was choosing this path of misery. I confessed to myself that my perception was out of whack more than any degree of accomplishment or “talent.” If I changed my mindset, which thankfully I had seen other brave souls do, it could change my experience. . .and changing my experience would change everything! Could I have another chance at my life?
As I gained a tentative toehold back in the music world, the how of which I’ll share with you later, I didn’t abandon my work in shelters and continued on as a volunteer. I remember teaching piano to a gentleman in the halfway house in San Francisco’s notorious Tenderloin district. Despite struggling desperately with addiction, when he picked out his bare-bones blues during lessons on that big old donated Hammond organ, he lit up, fueled by his own steam for the first time in a long time. The energy in the room changed palpably as his true power sparked to life. I remember a woman who had suffered major depression for forty years telling me with amazement that playing harp was more effective than any of the dozens of strong medications she’d relied on to remain in this world.
Experiences like this convinced me that reconnecting to our creativity is one of the mightiest healers, even if we’ve hit rock bottom. These courageous people reminded me of creativity’s sheer strength and that we can all access it even in the direst of situations. Through these people’s eyes, I saw that creativity’s most powerful function is not to impress or please others. It is to return you to your true self.
Creativity’s most powerful function is to return you to your true self.
Now in my early twenties and hungry to maintain my newfound yet precarious strength, I began to study the practices of great artists and thinkers, as well as cultural movements of the past. I was astonished as a vast network of intertwining philosophies that have been all but lost lit up my consciousness. These forgotten philosophies — many tapping into the power of nature herself, such as traditional Celtic beliefs and the transformational insights of ancient Egypt — married with inspiring global creative practices, such as the Indian classical music model of apprenticeship, to birth my philosophy, the Bright Way creative path you are about to embark on.
BRIGHT WAY ACTIVITY
Who Supports You?
Just as my many allies have helped me, I hope to be your ally as we traverse this Bright Way together. What other allies have been quietly gathering around you? Take a moment to reflect. Who has been silently supporting you over the years? Even someone who gave you one word of encouragement counts.
When I consider my allies, I realize they all have a common quality: they are purveyors of growth. They believe we can grow and flourish at any time, any place. Limitations, as much as these sage allies acknowledge them, are treated as opportunities for growth, not permanent states or indictments. Who in your life has believed in you and pointed out your constant potential for growth? You may well have a fleet of guardian angels that you never noticed before. Write these names and energies down, for your eyes only.
During the unavoidable challenging moments this school of life throws at us, look at your list of allies and feel heartened. You may even feel inspired to deepen your relationship with them, now that they have emerged from the shadows!
If no one or nothing pops to mind, try this exercise: stand up, close your eyes, and feel your feet firmly planted on the ground. Sense each foot in complete contact with the ground. Spread your toes out confidently into the earth. Notice the implicit trust that you’ll stay rooted to the floor rather than fly off. Feel Mother Earth’s unconditional support of you, her gentle presence holding you. You don’t have to grasp for or earn this support. Simply because you are alive, Mother Earth is here as your constant ally. Gather strength from her love.
Heart Connection Practice
In this spirit of recognizing allies and honoring connection, now is the perfect time to tap into your heart energy as a prime source of strength, intelligence, and wisdom. Though this may sound like a lifelong quest, I promise that it’s possible to get in touch with your heart energy right at this moment. Your heart, your ultimate ally, is always with you. We’re discovering more and more about how much the heart really knows. This was clearly understood in the past with the “cardiocentric” views of ancient Egypt and Greece, which place the heart as the primary seat of intelligence. Let’s reclaim this ancient wisdom!
Your heart, your ultimate ally, is always with you.
We Are Here in Love
Try this heart-connection practice now. Close your eyes and think of someone, something, or somewhere you love unconditionally. Easy choices are family members, pets, holiday spots, or anything noncontroversial and joyful for you. Fill yourself with the image and energy of this being, this object or place. Breathe deeply. Feel your heart warm. Allow the sensation in your chest to expand like an infinite balloon. Keep breathing. Keep loving. Keep warming.
If you can’t think of anything you love unconditionally, try this: put your left hand over your heart and close your eyes. Pause. Connect to your heart’s beating. Let a few breaths sink in. Repeat out loud, “We are here.
