Some words get into you and become a forever gift.
Wayne Dyer, spiritual guide and visionary often quotes these lines from Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. I’ve never forgotten the phrases “insular Tahiti” and “horrors of a half-lived life.”
For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all of the horrors of the half-lived life.
Dyer often talks about not dying with your music still inside you. Some hear his words as an instant knowing, others weighed down by burdens and spirit-killing noise simply cannot.
They say: Nice rah-rah session cheerleader man but here’s the thing:
I’ve got bills I can’t pay, a sick mother who says I don’t visit enough, a leaky faucet I can’t afford to fix, a drug addict son, a boss who makes it his mission to stroke his own ego, a 16 year old daughter almost failing high school, five hours sleep a night, in-laws disappointed by my existence, a wrecked front bumper I can’t afford to fix, weeds so wide I forgot I had a lawn, a husband with heart disease, $200,000 in unpaid medical bills, diabetes and 100 pounds of extra weight.
So, you want me to find the music inside me? For Gods sake, I can’t even find my other sock.
How can we find our insular Tahiti if we’re so strangled by our own lives we can’t breathe?
Find a passion that won’t shut up.
Paint, write, dance, walk, teach. Watch birds, notice sunlight through the trees, play guitar, hike a trail, walk a neighborhood, scrapbook, grow orchids, help the sick, the sad or the lost once a month, but not out of obligation, out of an urge, a screaming need to escape into giving yourself to another or finally accepting help.
Find your music somewhere, in some-time.
Ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty….. . Steal a deserved moment to bathe in simple bliss or your spirit will limp along until one day all that makes you a singularly spectacular being will wither away unnoticed.