“How can I Not Sing…”
Sometimes the universe is so on target. I have been processing where I have been in the last few years. Two years ago my relationship was in turmoil, my music business was in shambles, and I was in a train wreck in many areas of my life. After many years of what appeared to be futile effort, I slowly and steadily began to give up on my visions and dreams. It has taken a lot of focused effort to climb out of the cesspool of self-doubt and resentment.
Again, I find myself contemplating my work. African music, although popular, is not necessarily a money maker in the industry. I again began questioning the purpose of my work with drumming. What would I do and how would I survive as I got older. Then, someone posted a wonderful little video on Facebook about bi Kidude. OMG! How old she was and dancing; one foot raised ahead of the other, so deliberately. Half of her teeth gone, and eyes as misty and ancient as the seas around Zanzibar, she lifted her head singing.
I scoured the internet to find as much information as I could about her. The answers were as mysterious as her persona. Then, my Guidance asked me what about her drew me to search so deeply. I realized that it was the fact that at 100 years old, living in apparent poverty in Zanzibar, all she could think about was music and singing! That frail looking body had no problem stomping those feet on the earth for rhythm while singing! Here was the reason for being!
So often, we in the west get caught up in economics and survival. Like many others, I clouded my dreams of creativity with visions of making money when that is not what it is about. Yes, we need to sustain ourselves but the truth is we sing, dance and drum because it fills and heals us. I become lost and confused when I forget that simple little sentence. I sing and drum because it fills and sustains me.
Truly spirit guided someone to post that video; a deep reminder for me about one of the things I came here to accomplish: To spread joy through the healing power of music. I have burned the image of Bi Kidude in my memory; six generations of wealth surrounding her singing, dancing and drumming. least I forget one of the purposes of my being.