Life and Song

A decent amount of time has passed since I last sat down to write. Thoughts and ideas have been bouncing around in the grey matter for a while now, I just haven’t had that urge, that need, to get it out on (virtual) paper.

Even now, the urge isn’t like it was a few months ago. Life is resuming, a new and beautiful routine is setting in, I have lots of time for myself, and even more time for those who I am currently sharing my life with. Being alone used to terrify me, unnerve me, but now, except for very rare occasions, I relish my own time. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always liked having time to myself, but only when I knew there was someone special in the next room, or at the end of a phone line, who was thinking of me and would be there for me if I needed, so in those times, I was never truly alone.

But now?, it’s actually quite satisfying…. I’ve been “single” for over 4 months now, and this is when I would always start freaking out…. ohmygodI’malonewhatthefuckdoIdoohmygodohmygodohmygod!!!!!!!!!!!…. but this time it suits me just fine. And that’s a pretty cool feeling, to be content with one’s self, hopefully readers know what that feels like.

I attended another festival last week, called Open Mind, and like the last one, the name was fairly accurate. At Manifesting Magic, I found confidence, I found strength, I hooped and danced with no shame nor worry at how crappy I actually was at that point with my circles, I spread smiles and love, and found them all reflected back at me. For the first time I had truly felt the magic of being surrounded by love, by smiles, by joy.

I went to Open Mind expecting more of the same, to play, to dance, to love, and while all of these things happened, and yes they were beautiful, they weren’t what made this experience special.

It was Sunday afternoon, I hadn’t really been feeling the vibe yet since we had arrived at the festival, the weather was shit, we were having a hard time keeping track of people, I felt like we had spent too much running around looking for stuff. I took a step back from everyone, and went off on my own, took my own trip. After spending some time meditating around the sacred fire, I returned to camp to prepare for the next few hours, put on some warmer clothes, and there I met our two new room-mates, two lovely girls who we invited into our tent as theirs had fallen apart, and after a few minutes we set off again.

There was a bonfire burning close to our camp, and we took a moment there to warm ourselves. There was a young man with an acoustic guitar sitting on a log, playing, and a beautiful girl next to him adding her voice to his notes. No words were used, no recognizable song was being played, just music, raw, true, plucked out of the air.

The three of us sat, and listened. The guitarist raised his head, and parting his lips, let out a haunting keening wail, following her somewhat, but it was his own song, as hers was her own song as well. At times they met, others they separated, one occasionally shifting to harmonize with the other. We all sat…… listened.

My two new friends decided to move along, and true to the spirit of the day, I let them go and remained there, surrounded by smiling faces, but still alone.

The singer stood and took her leave, while the guitarist struck up another tune and hummed to himself. The rest of the sitters breaking out into quiet conversation.

Behind my left shoulder, between the guitarist and me, a beautiful voice broke out and took my breath away. He smiled, looked over his shoulder at our new addition, and added his own voice to hers.

I found myself humming, finding my own place between their twisting chorals. My mouth opened from time to time and my voice was heard as well, and maybe it took a minute, or maybe it took an hour, time truly had stopped around that circle, but before I knew it, I was raising my voice, widening my mouth, letting it out, singing like I’ve never sung before.

As I let myself flow into the music I realized that as I changed my rhythm, sometimes others would follow, I led them, and I let myself be led by the others. At times I dropped into my low male register, something that has terrified me to do ever since transitioning, and I would let the angel to my left bring her voice up keening into the heavens, then she would give me my place and my voice would shift and cry out.

It was beautiful

A drummer joined us, people came and went, adding their song to ours. A beat-boxer decided to kick things up a bit, so our music shifted, bounced, we sang with stars in our eyes, looking at each other, laughing together, sharing something that may only come along once in a lifetime.

We missed the ceremonies that night entirely, we didn’t need them, we created our own, more magical than any planned ceremony could be.

The storm hit again, and five of us, the angel, the player, the drummer, myself and another singer ran to the tent, where we laughed, talked briefly about the beauty of what we were creating, then simply continued.

All in all I think we sang for close to four hours, but as all things must, at one point, it ended. We hugged, we thanked each other, we shared our love, and we took our separate ways after the angel and I said we would meet at the sacred fire.

I returned to the fire and found her already there, usually this is a silent place, but tonight wild animistic prayers were being sung, and the angel was leading them. She spoke briefly of our meeting to the circle, and of the magic we had just shared, and then this circle sang. It was beautiful, but different, as the songs had words and were known, were structured, but unfortunately I didn’t know them, and after my back suddenly informed me that I had been sitting on a rock for the past five hours, I took my leave.

And again, was immediately rewarded by running into a friend I hadn’t seen all day (one person out of ~1200 people there), and we were able to share our experiences with each other, another blessing.

I continued to the stone circle, the ceremony had long since ended and now was the time for celebration and dance. Not one minute into finding my dance, a hand falls on my shoulder and it is one of our new room-mates, out of everyone there dancing, I stand next to one of the only people I know. We embrace, smile, return to our dance, and right then, off to the edge of the circle, another friend I haven’t seen for hours, standing there, smiling and waving at me. Another blessing.

I go see her, and find even more people, all gifts. We share our evenings with each other, enjoying the looks of joy on each others’ faces.

I return to the dance floor, and a young stranger comes up to me, and tells me that she has seen me at both festivals now and has always wanted to tell me how beautiful she finds me to be, and how inspired she is by me simply being me. Her friend agrees, we embrace, and they disappear into the night.

I dance

When my legs had had enough, dancing in rubber boots is one hell of a workout, I reflected on my evening and all the blessings I had received, and decided that it was a pretty good time to call it a night. I thanked the stage, the dancers, the energy, and took my leave.

But as I’m walking down the hill towards our camp area, I hear something familiar, a guitar style that I know, a wailing voice, a high angelic one, a drum. My pace quickens, a smile breaks across my face, there are two people standing at the entrance to the massive tent where they are, watching, listening. I slip between them already in song, already in dance. The guitarist sees me and his voice hits a stunning peak as he welcomes me. My own voice crashing through the heavens, no more fear, no more doubt in myself. We harmonize together, we dance around each other, and we create some of the most beautiful sounds that this world has ever heard.

When it ends, we hold each other tight as a group, then each of us takes time to hold each other individually. We comment on how nothing like this has ever happened, to any of us, in any of our lives (only then do I realize that the angelic voice actually comes from another new singer) and we enjoy each others company for a short while.

and then it ends

the next day, there was singers and players around the campfire, but my guitarist was nowhere to be seen. I did find the angel, and another singer, and we did sing a bit, but the magic wasn’t there, I think it’s because I was looking for it, instead of letting it find me, but that’s ok, it was still meaningful

I will never forget that day, and what we shared

the crazy thing?….. I only even know what two of them look like, this all happened at night. I remember two of their names, have found the angel on FB thankfully, but the rest are these dark shadows in my mind with a specific voice (or drum), and shape, but no face, no name

and that’s kind of beautiful

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