“Miracles are both beginnings and endings, and so they alter the temporal order. ²They are always affirmations of rebirth, which seem to go back but really go forward. ³They undo the past in the present, and thus release the future. Miracles bear witness to truth.”
– A Course In Miracles, Chapter 1
On April 20th, I’ll have my first concert in over 4 years. I’ve played songs here and there, but truly the last concert where I booked a night in advance to share what I do was in December 2019. Interestingly, that concert was in a space dedicated to the sacred, the yoga studio I frequented at that time, as if it were a premonition of what was to come. It was also the first concert where I lost my voice halfway through the setlist, also foreshadowing the difficulties I would face in the following years.
I’ll briefly summarize my journey over the past 4 years. It’s a lot for one paragraph, so I apologize for any neurological damage it may cause.
In February 2020, I went to India to do yoga and I had my first encounter with a sage. Upon returning, the pandemic erupted, and with it, my crisis with music. I abandoned my musical path, and I experienced a death of my musician identity. I turned inward, meditating and studying the nature of the mind and enlightenment. I rediscovered the golden seed that fell into my mind 4 years earlier, on the day of my first epiphany. I finally began to cultivate it. I discovered Zen and nonduality (also known as perennial wisdom, the root shared by all traditions and religions). I discovered that happiness, peace, and love are not things to seek outside of myself, but are part of my essence and therefore cannot be lost but can only obscured. I discovered that, essentially, I am not an individual separate from everyone and everything else, but pure and universal consciousness, formless and limitless, from which everything arises. That mistaken identification with the body is the great illusion, the root of all suffering that Buddha unveiled and from which Christ offers salvation. As I explore this and make my way inward, music begins to spring forth from the depths again. I follow the thread, and it leads me to Berklee to study songwriting. In my first semester, I have an unequivocal experience that what I am in essence is that universal consciousness. With this, I see that my path at Berklee is not about learning new things to become a better musician but about freeing the master I already carry within. There is much work ahead: I am filled with fears, blocks, and insecurities that prevent me from sharing my music, and my voice constantly tightens and falls ill. In the second semester, the walls that “protected” my heart collapse, and I have a new epiphany in which I see that my life will be dedicated to spreading enlightenment. New dimensions open up in my experience of the world that radically challenge all the beliefs of separation with which my mind was programmed. My psyche collapses, and I go through a dark night of the soul. From the ashes of that fire, signs of a new life begin to sprout. Meditating, I stumble upon what I must do in this life: “to restore the sacred in myself and in my community through music, painting, and poetry.” In the third semester, I meet my qigong teacher, JR. Thanks to him, I discover Jesus Christ as a reality I can access through my newly opened heart. He becomes my refuge and guide, and like a musician tuning his instrument, Christ begins to tune me. The things that made me suffer (physical illnesses, negative mental patterns, false beliefs, blocks, and fears) begin to dissipate. This seems to free me to dedicate my energy to better things. The meaning of my life continues to change and deepen.
“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. […] I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.” (John 15)
Well, despite all this crazy metamorphosis, my voice remained blocked, losing it daily not only when singing but also just speaking. This not only led me away from music but also from the people around me, as I often felt unable to engage in conversation. I explored all kinds of techniques to free it: reiki, Alexander technique, singing lessons, body mapping, chiropractic, massage, acupuncture, qigong, yoga, meditation. Nothing seemed to release that tension.
A week ago, my desperation with my voice once again led me to consider abandoning my path as a musician. It’s truly frustrating not being able to use your instrument and continue down a path where you need it. Just that week, Erin Shea Hogan, the founder of Kindred, wrote to invite me to play at the next concert. Kindred concerts are gatherings in a beautiful monastery in Cambridge called Peace House, centered around contemplation and creativity. The idea is to play for about 40 minutes while the audience paints, writes, meditates, or simply listens. It truly is my ideal place to perform, but with my voice blocked, I considered telling her no. But before giving that defeatist response, I closed my eyes, went into my heart, and asked, “Lord, what do you want me to do?” My heart immediately expanded, and with it, my chest, filled with courage and enthusiasm. It was evident that I had to say yes, and so I did without hesitation.
The next day, I met with my qigong teacher, JR, again. After class, he invited me to his office to meditate while he energetically treated a classmate with sinus problems. Once in his office, I felt I needed to ask for help with my voice. I timidly asked him, and he said he would treat me too. My classmate and I sat down, and he began to move around us, placing his hands on different parts of our bodies, but without actually touching us. It’s difficult to describe what happens while he does this. I simply felt like I was surrendering to God, a “Thy will be done” on such a deep level that for a while, the mind dissolves, and with it, the illusion of being a separate entity. What remains then is only love and reverence. Just before finishing, I felt as if an acupuncture needle was being inserted into my neck, and a tension released, freeing the muscles from my jaw to my right shoulder.
The next day, I met with him again, and without planning or asking for it, a new healing session spontaneously arose. This time, and without me explaining anything, he precisely treated the small throat muscles where the tension causing me to lose my voice over and over again was located. This time it was even more dramatic. JR simply pointed to the affected area with his holy hands, and my muscles trembled as if resisting something. Finally, I heard in my mind “Jesus Christ, I surrender my voice to you,” and immediately after, JR said, “now your voice is no longer separate, it is part of the whole again,” which is another way of saying the same thing.
That was last Friday. Good Friday, indeed. Since then, not only have I not lost my voice again, but my voice is getting healthier, stronger, and clearer every day. Yesterday, I had another class with JR. I hugged him, thanked him, and told him my voice was improving rapidly. I then asked him if this would last because maybe it was my way of singing that had caused these injuries, and I was afraid they would return. He said something I didn’t understand at the time: “now you will sing as you were healed.”
A few hours later, I had a class where I always struggled because I had to sing very loudly to hear myself. Yesterday, I sang loudly, but without straining, and my voice was different, much more beautiful and intelligent than it had ever been. It flowed effortlessly and powerfully, and I improvised in a way that led me into a deep meditative state. I felt that it was no longer me directing my voice, but rather it was singing on its own, guided by the Spirit, flowing through me and making my body vibrate in an exquisite way. I had never enjoyed singing so much. I understood then what JR meant. I was healed by the Spirit (JR is just the conduit, like an antenna tuned to that infinite Love), and now it was the Spirit itself using my voice to sing. I can trust that I won’t hurt myself while singing anymore.
Now I have just over two weeks to review my songs and present myself again as Astro Fonda, guitar in hand. But everything has changed, and the reasons why I play now are radically different.
Erin called the April 20th event “Restoring the Sacred with Astro Fonda.” With that, after almost a year asleep, that mission statement returned to me: “restoring the sacred in myself and in my community through music, art, and poetry.” At first, I felt a tremendous insecurity, but looking within, a voice resounded inside me, “OWN IT.” I did, and a new adventure has opened before me. It starts with a simple, complicated, essential question:
What is sacred?
I’ve been searching for answers for a few days now, and he who seeks, always finds. Perhaps I’ll write about it for next week. If you want to help me in the search, by replying to this email with your reflections on what sacred means for you, or simply by saying what things in your life you consider sacred, I think it could be a good community exercise from which we will all benefit. I’ll leave it there.
Thank you for reading and for opening your mind to what I share. As Mary Oliver said, “Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.” That’s all it takes.
With all my love and gratitude,
A.
