Keeping the Dream

Hope everyone is doing well. The day after Christmas I kind of crashed. Christmas was really good, but the two weeks leading up to it with rehearsals, performances and preparation with my “day job” thrown in there was just a bit much. So I’m a bit under the weather right now, dealing with a cold.

Tomorrow, I get my precious nephew and daughter. We’ll be welcoming in the new year together.

I’ll be setting up my little recording space to start creating podcasts on my own by next week, so this should be a fun and creative way to start off 2006.

I’ll be talking to you again soon.

Much love,
Demian,
~DreamSinger

Silent Night

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Regardless your religious background, the story of the baby born in the dead of winter in humble surroundings is a story that touches the heart. I think it moves so many people because the images are archetypal, telling a story that speaks not only to a particular religious belief but to the human experience.

To me, this story represents the birth of hope in humankind, in that authentic, organic place within the human heart. It represents our inner being, that “sacred-place-within” that cannot be touched, defiled or soiled by violence or trauma.

Every person carries within them their own Bethlehem, their own Silent Night. And within every person is a guiding star and the inner wisdom to follow it, to embark on the journey to our own salvation and redemption.

I just want to say that I am proud of you – no matter how sure your steps or how hesitant, I am proud of you as you walk your journey of healing.

In my own journey, I have grown to develop a deep respect for those of us on this healing path, for I have become more and more aware of how many people seek to avoid such work, to what extent they are willing to go and what damage they are willing to inflict to avoid it.

But not you.

You want something else for yourself. You could quit; there are times, days, weeks, months, years when your heart is heavy with depression and almost paralyzed, when the pain is excruciating and you live your life as if every moment were a shallow labored breath of a dying person. You could give in.

But not you, even though it would be so easy to just quit, to give in to the dynamics that pull on you, the seductions to rationalize and justify, to join the long line of people passing the legacy of pain from one generation to another. Many people would rather quit before they even begin, and many do.

But not you. You could distract yourself with busy work or tell yourself you’re perfectly fine or use your wound as an excuse for your behavior or even entitlement to leave a line of fallen victims in your wake, like so many do.

But not you…and even if you have done these things, as I have in varying degrees, in this moment, you are born anew, because you are contemplating something else. That’s why you are reading these words.

For you are on a journey, traveling across foreign lands, to places you’ve never been, following signs like a star in the sky, checking maps but more than likely making them as you go along, charting a course for others to follow if they choose, because you’re like that…because you choose to be like that.

And I am so proud of you. When you look upon a manger scene, when you look up in the sky, when you see the blues and reds and greens of Christmas lights; anything that touches your heart with beauty, please, know this – that beauty that touches you is you; you are the innocence, the wonder; that part of you that you have for so long been seemingly lost to – I believe the Divine is already a part of us waiting for us to “come and worship”. We could not be alive if this were not so. And even though we may feel as “outcasts” with no room in the world among others seemingly more advantaged than us, there is something wondrously holy within us that is holy still and always will be.

This Winter Solstice, this Christmas time, this season when so many different faiths are celebrating and worshiping in their own way…this time of year when believers and nonbelievers, of whatever belief system there is, stop for even a moment to consider something greater than what they already know – I stop with them and with you and give thanks with all my heart for the gift of love you are to this world.

For this is our story – no matter the road we have had to walk or the things thrust upon us on this journey, this is our story – this birth of a newborn babe in a humble place filling the heavens with wonder and rejoicing, as we come to realize that the sacred is not lost, but here all along, born anew within us.

Blessings to you,
Demian,
~DreamSinger

Wow, what a past several days! Friday night I was “iced in” so I couldn’t drive out to Readers Cafe in Hanover to do a book reading, but by Saturday morning, the roads were once again driveable where I live and we made it to Borders. I had had a very rough time trying to sleep Friday night, on top of running on very little sleep from the previous nights. Friday night I got a total of under an hour sleep.

By nightfall, Saturday, I had to end the bedtime story for my little girl half-way through the story, because I could no longer stay awake…no choice, it was lights out for me. I wok e up a number of times through the night, but this time was able to go back to sleep.

But that Saturday afternoon at Borders, I did fine. I read Little Yellow Pear Tomatoes to the kids, and then Stacey, my songwriting partner from DreamSinger, and I performed a song we wrote for the book by the same name, and the title track to “For the Sake of Love“.

It was so neat to talk to the kids. I’ve never done this before, and it was such a nice change for me. Writing this children’s story that simply celebrated the wonder of life through a child’s eyes was a wonderful experience for me. Once the publishing process started, it dawned on me that this is the first creative project I have done that didn’t have anything to with healing or overcoming. There were no mentions of woundings, big or small, or guilt or shame…even if in a message of hope and empowerment for overcoming them.

For me, it was like a sweet breath of fresh of air, a taste of what it’s like to step into that world…where children don’t get hurt, where life is simple and pure and just. Where you can just be a kid…

And I loved talking with the kids in the store, and looking into their eyes. My grandson was there, as well. Dionna had brought Costa, and it was such a treat for me to see him standing on her lap and dancing as I sang. He *loved* the song, and I loved watching him loving it.

Then Sunday, we went to Palmyra Unity Church Christmas service, as DreamSinger, and we participated in the service. We did Silent Night as a prayer. I’m always moved by the power of music, whether it comes through me or through another.

I’m really grateful for the gift of creativity. It’s always been a blessing in my life.

Demian,
~DreamSinger – Healing Songs

Written April 25, 2004; Demian

Need I say more? It may not be real clear in the picture, but that sweet little fist has a handful of my hair. Grabbing his nana’s hair fills him with joy…and me too.

“They know I love them.”

But is that enough? Yesterday I wrote about the words you say and don’t say, and I touched upon the importance of speaking the words that reflect the love we have inside for others.

I’ve heard people, who aren’t very expressive, say they don’t need to tell someone they love them, because they know they do.

But is that true? Certainly, words by themselves are hallow, but words with meaning can be full and rich.

I don’t think it’s enough to know someone loves you. That knowledge is great, but not if it stops in your head. I think the true power lies in feeling loved. And that involves getting close to someone, a level of intimacy that enables you to know what makes that person feel loved.

Maybe that’s why so many of us are satisfied with telling ourselves our children, our significant others “know I love them.”

Yeah, and I know the capital of my state, but that doesn’t make my day.

There’s no substitute for your presence in someone’s life and for letting them know you know they exist. One of the most hurtful things we can do, is to make our children feel invisible. I’ve felt it and I’ve done it. One of the most empowering and loving things we can do is to make them feel seen. I’ve felt that and done that, too.

But oh, how I wish I had done that more often.

Another thing about getting older. You are blessed and cursed with 20/20 hindsight vision. That’s why our elders are so important, and why their wisdom can’t be replicated…but that’s another post.

Sign off this blog, and go tell someone you love, you love them. And when you do it, look them in the eye, good and long. And then ask yourself, if you were them…not if they were you, but if you were them, what would make you happy. Then make the time in your life to do it.

Demian,
~DreamSinger

Well, yesterday I posted my first podcast on this blog through Audioblog.com Twenty years ago, I worked for a church in the interim of the church looking for a new minister, and I remember thinking how wonderful it would be to have a radio show and broadcast messages of peace and hope. Then a few years later, I met a woman who used to work for a radio station and we talked about how neat it would be to own a radio station and be responsible for the content.

This isn’t the same as owning a station, but it is kind of like stepping into a piece of a dream I’ve had for a very long time.

We, as a species, are gifted with the ability to speak, to communicate not only with words, but with imagery and artistry. How we use this gift…or misuse it, is a choice we make every day. But not very often do we stop and think about just what power it is we have in our hands and what a privilege it is to be able to do this.

How often do we use words to deceive ourselves…to deceive others? Words that shoot another person down, words that rip down a reputation like so much ivy from a wall, words that crush a child’s spirit in less time than it takes to bat an eye.

But perhaps, the saddest words are the words we never speak. Words of encouragement, words that convey just how much we love someone, how much they mean to us…until it’s too late, and the words you finally do speak go rushing to deaf ears…ears that no longer hear or want to.

Be mindful of what you say…and even more so of what you don’t say.

I think, as a survivor, for me it’s come to asking not whether the love inside me has been too wounded or too hurt or too whatever, but whether or not I have the ability or wherewithal to develop the ability to express that love, which I do have and always have had within me, to those who matter the most.

I’m not starting with an empty plate. My father didn’t take that away from me. I have love within me, and I do love. And I suspect for most people who have been hurt, the love they have within them hasn’t been destroyed either. What is hurt is the mechanism or means by which we can express what we really do have inside…our love, our compassion, the deep caring we have for others to others in a way that makes them feel and know they are loved.

It’s a part of learning for everyone. But I think it’s especially poignant for survivors, because we haven’t been given much of a blueprint to follow.

Pondering this for the past few days, I realize that my mom really did love me…really did do the best she could. Often times, this “did the best they could” has a feeling of a cop out to me, like it diminishes their responsibility for the choices they made.

But from this place, it takes on a different light.

Maybe it’s because I’m becoming more insightful as I get older. But more likely, it’s because of my own growing awareness of how much love I felt and how much of it actually was conveyed was a lot further apart than I could have imagined. Sometimes a little personal experience can go a long way in taking you down a few notches.

But the view is really a lot better down here. Makes you more accessible for giving and receiving warm embraces when you’re down to earth.

Demian,
~DreamSinger

I have a multi-cultural background, and I cherish the traditions and gifts that my Asian, French and Native American ancestry brings to me. The one thing that has been consistent throughout all my years and through various explorations of different beliefs and faiths, is this image of the newborn babe in the deepest of winter.

The hope this brings to me, the powerful message of life when nothing seems like it could grow speaks to me on my healing journey.

It is with this universal message for those who celebrate this season for religious reasons and for those who don't, that I would like to offer this song, as a prayer, to you and to the world.

With many blessings,
Demian,
~DreamSinger

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