An Ode to the Healing Power of Sincerity

Words of gratitude to a talented friend and an Armenian song.

This story is about the beautiful power of a pure, loving heart—and the massive healing that comes from love and courage.

I am writing it with gratitude to all good energy, and specifically, with gratitude to an immensely talented friend who gave me wings and helped me remember music.

See, about three years ago, music stopped coming out of me. Something happened, I forgot how to get it out.

Music has always been been an integral part of my everything. I am super vocal. I am loud. I am a singer! But music requires a particular boldness, a relaxed body, and a community to receive the sounds with gratitude. And I felt alone. And, alone, my pushing power in this area dried out and I didn’t know how to get it back. I got a feeling that nobody needed my sounds. I was looking and hoping that somebody close to me, somebody in physical proximity would tell me that my music mattered, that my artistic essence was important, that I wasn’t just a function of a human being delivering practical deliverables, or meeting standards of not sticking out, or looking the proper way, or… I don’t know… in some way, more than a function. 

But somehow, at the time, I remained empty-handed.

Then 2020 came, and it gave me a reason to use my writing voice. I found a new community, I started being vocal about the pandemic and the Great Reset. (Not that I had a choice, after all, it is the job of an artist to speak one’s truth.)

But the music was still stuck, and it drove me absolutely crazy. 

Meanwhile, feeling stifled, I learned how to live on a prayer. I learned how to live on hope. I became ridiculously patient. 

And it was all very useful education without a doubt but music was still stuck in me, and it got to the point where I just wanted to scream, and scream, and keep screaming, expressing my frustration. Scream until the whole world hears that I exist.

And then, in the middle of my outcry, I met a fellow artist whose artistic talent and genuine friendship reminded me of my own gift that I brought to this Earth.

My friend, who I admire deeply, is Anaïs Tekerian. I interviewed her a couple of months ago. (If you missed the interview, please check it out, she is incredible.) 

Anaïs is amazingly talented, brave, and musically brilliant. Her music is beautiful, she is a real inspiration. 

[Below is her beautiful song, a song that is very appropriate for the times we are in.]

By virtue of talking to Anaïs from the heart and feeling a heartfelt connection, I remembered music. What it took is three years of prayer and the energy of a human being who cares about that part of me. 

I grateful, and I am in awe of how beautifully this world is made, and how potent the power of a good emotion is. 

Thank you Anaïs, and may we all heal. 

A technical note: the video in the beginning of the story is of an Armenian song that Anaïs came up with for us to work together on—and I probably mispronounced the words (sorry), and our version will probably be very different from that video. But she found such a perfect song to do, I fell in love with it. And I had to let it out, with joy and gratitude.

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