When I hear it I get goose bumps from my head to my toes. Sometimes It stops me in my tracks and calls to me, “come dance, move your body and be free with me.” 

The notes, the beats, the reverberation of the collection of melody move through my body and nurture me in ways that I can’t even explain.  Even though the pull is strong and the sound uplifting, I stay where I am, not moving a muscle. 

Why can’t I let go, surrender and move into this calling that has followed me since I was a child, gently tugging on my skirts, my hands, and whispering in my ear to join in? 

It has always found me wherever I am, no matter what event I am attending, no matter what country I am visiting. No matter what city I am living in or what house I have moved into, It is always there beckoning me with no pressure, no judgment and no ultimatums. 

Even though my soul wants to respond to the beckoning call of the music that is flowing into every pore of my body, my mind stops me dead in my tracks. It presents me with instant stories of embarrassment, of “what if’s” and the reminder of the image I have created for myself. After all, this image was carefully constructed over the past 40 years, why would I want to mess that up? 

 All that hard work of hiding, of building a strong facade, proving to myself and others that I am not affected by my past, my perceived limitations of gender, race and upbringing. I am the picture of strength, of discipline, of a regal black female, business owner, teacher and guide.  All that I have created could be shattered in a moment of weakness, of release, of surrender.  

To surrender to the longing of freedom that can be found through movement and music would feel amazing in the moment but what about when the music stops, stillness enters the space, and eyes are looking around?  

And in that very short moment of internal dialog, discussion, and reasoning, I put up my reliable armor which allowed the music to move around me and no longer through me. To appear not to be moved by what I was hearing, but just enjoying it on the surface. 

I then composed myself and slowly looked around to see if I had eyes on me witnessing what was going on in my head. Of course there wasn’t but I may not be so fortunate next time. 

I was lucky this time, was the message that was taken away from this 2 second mind and body interaction and that was all it took to reinforce old patterns and beliefs to add to the strength and depth of my armor. 

We all long for this calling, to be pulled out of our carefully constructed shell, our armor that we feel comfortable presenting to the world. When the call comes will the surrender happen or will the armor instantly become harder, thicker and stronger?

My question to myself is what is so bad underneath my armor and if I did let it go would my life be drastically different? Would I live a happier life? Would I live a more fulfilled life? Or would I be shamed out of my community?

 Even as I ask these questions and do “the work” to release the armor, while simultaneously holding onto it, I already know the answers. 

I already know what lies underneath is the fear; fear of being seen. 

 Fear of being seen in a way I have not yet felt out first, that I have not configured to fit into my “safe” self image that I have spent so much time creating and that I am somewhat comfortable with. 

So yes, I do know that with the release of the story of fear would come extreme joy, feather like lightness and a soft peace that only occurs when true acceptance of myself is invited in. So why not let go, why not move and surrender to the soul healing connection that for me is made up of beats, melody, words, instruments and voices? 

Why not? 

Good question.


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