I am live streaming from home. I traveled to Texas last week and came home. I’m quarantining until I can get a COVID 19 test. Not that I'm ill or anything. I just want to be cautious and considerate of all those that I'm around on a daily basis. So here I am and we have a friend. We've all got a friend. It is a wonderful opportunity that I look forward to every year. This was one of my favorite songs. “You've Got a Friend” by James Taylor. It's a classic song.
This series, The Power of Song is real for many of us. It's real for me. I love it. Music reminds me that I do have someone I can rely on. It can be a person. It can be God. There is always someone who has my back, no matter what the outer circumstances, if I can go within for that gentle reassurance of love. When I forget, all I have to do is call out to someone this year, even though I'm at home. I’m not here because of fear, but because I want to be conscious that there is a virus in our world. There's a lot of chaos. There's a lot of darkness and loneliness.
Yet I know the truth that I am.
I’m whole and healthy and all those around me are whole and healthy. Sometimes we have to model what we teach. That's what I'm doing today. We are all one. There is no real separation, even though I'm at home and you guys are at church or in your own homes. We’re all together as well. We have a lot of egos in our own lives, in our families, in our political system on both sides. Many of our agencies, organizations, companies, and corporations are all founded in the spirit of unity and oneness. Egos tend to drive them. That's not a bad thing. Yet when we get caught up in the ego and the shadow, we don't let our light shine. That's why we call out to that friend to remember, to let our light shine. So who do you turn to in those moments of despair, fear, and anxiety, those moments of darkness? A friend.
A friend who helps you see the light, to keep your head and heart together. A friend to remind you that this too shall pass. A lot of times I'll go within. When I go within there is a friend there for me. I learned when I was a kid you have a friend in Jesus. That was always real for me. Jesus is my way-shower. When I think of that, it makes my heart lighter. It leads me from that place of despair into the light. Whether your friend is human, an angel, a messenger, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, or God, that doesn't really matter. What matters is that we call out and know that the call is answered because you've got a friend. When we call out, the door opens, you know, the Bible verse, “Ask, knock, and ask, and it's answered.”
When we call out - we're asking - we call on our ancestors. Our master teachers, our angels, archangels, and God to help us in our own healing. Then in the healing of others in our prayers, we're calling out and affirming the good in our lives and in the lives of our loved ones. We're calling on that friend. So when you're down and troubled and need that help, close your eyes and call out from a distance. Listen to that still small voice of guidance and come into the light of love.
I want to share a story about the songwriter and how she overcame the dark and cold North winds. It's a story behind the award-winning song "From a Distance" and the miracles a song can bring as told by the writer, Julie Gold. This is her story. I want to share it because when I was thinking about this and I looked up the lyrics of the songs and I always like to get the background. It's a musical. We do these powerful music series. In 1978, at the age of 22, she came to New York in pursuit of the dream of being a songwriter.
"While dreams are essential, they don't pay the rent. For years I worked various temporary jobs gigging at night and sending songs out wherever possible. I demonstrated vacuum cleaners, Mister coffees, and toaster ovens. I worked the flea markets, as a proofreader for a dentist, and at a Venetian blind factory. It was a struggle. No health benefits. No money for recreational purpose, desperation, self-doubt, and fear. We all know what that's like, but all the while I've clung to the dream, like a life preserver. I knew why I was born and no one could discourage me from reaching my mountain top. I was willing to die. Trying honestly, I was. I finally gave in taking a full-time job as a secretary at HBO in 1984. It was a smart move and the magic of a steady paycheck in the spare time and evening hours, I was, of course, still gigging, writing songs, and dreaming my big dream.
"However, I didn't have that horrible daily struggle of keeping my head above water financially. In 1985, just before my 30th birthday, my parents sent me the piano. I grew up playing. I had just served as a juror in an emotionally trying case. My brother had just married. I was questioning my life, wondering what the future could possibly hold. I took the day off work to be home when my piano arrived. I remember how it glistened in the sun as the movers lowered it off the truck. My piano, my truest love, and friend - my confidant - back together again after all these years. It came into my little one-room apartment and fit just where I had hoped it would. It'd been on the truck for 24 hours. I had to give it a chance to settle. I couldn't play it for a full day.
"We were in the same room together, unable to make music. I remember hugging it and polishing it. Then I went to bed. My bed was a high loft, and I looked down on my piano all night to make sure it was really there. The next day I sat down and “From a Distance” just poured out of me. On one hand, it took me two hours to write. On the other hand, it took me 30 years. Pick whichever hand makes you happy. I love them both. I sent “From a Distance” around to all my contacts, as usual, most did not even reply. Those who did found fault with my song. My friend and fellow songwriter, Christine Levin loved it and requested copies to send around to her friends and contacts. Within two weeks, my scratchy demo was getting radio play. Thanks to Christine I came home one day to a flashing message on my answering machine. There was a gentle, unknown voice identifying herself as Nancy Griffin. Christina had sent her the song. She loved it and was asking to record it. She recorded the song from a distance on her album for MCA.
"I saw her perform it live and observed her singing. Her audience sang along. That's when I realized that my life would never be the same. She sang that song all over the world and I was still very much a secretary. She would call me from Belfast to tell me how the song was affecting people all over the world. She took me out on the road with her several times, just so I could play the piano. She sang that one song, what incredible moments, getting love and honor from total strangers all because of one little song. Me basking in the light of a lifelong dream. I played Carnegie Hall with Nancy. All my relatives came up from Philadelphia to share the miracle. Most of them, including my mother, are immigrants. In many ways, I am their American dream. What an amazing dream it is.
"As I write this, I can't even believe it's true, but it really is. Even with all this glory. However, I was still a secretary. I lived in one little dark room. Still barely made enough money to survive. Believe it or not, I was just depressed and despondent. I remember crying on the phone to both my parents, who incidentally were never anything short of supportive, encouraging, and loving. With regard to my dream, I remember my desperation and how they tried to console me with their stereo pep talk didn't work. Finally, they asked what they could do to help me feel better. For the first time in my life. I asked them to please pay my rent for six months. They agreed.
"I left my job at HBO. I walked down Sixth Avenue crying all the way. Those were the best six months of my life. Finally, a full-time musician, I made my hours, I wrote my songs, I pitched, I played, I prayed. I sent songs to every singer in the world. I walked tall. I felt good. I received my first royalty check from foreign performances of “From a Distance.” That bought me another six months of freedom. During this time I received a call from Mark Shaiman, who identified herself as himself as Bette Midler’s music director. She was making a new record and they wanted to use “From a Distance.” They sent the demo back, recorded it. People seem to love it. I won a Grammy for the song of the year. In 1991 I was still living in one dark room, with no money, uncertain of my future.
"However, I didn't have that horrible daily struggle of keeping my head above water financially. In 1985, just before my 30th birthday, my parents sent me the piano. I grew up playing. I had just served as a juror in an emotionally trying case. My brother had just married. I was questioning my life, wondering what the future could possibly hold. I took the day off work to be home when my piano arrived. I remember how it glistened in the sun as the movers lowered it off the truck. My piano, my truest love, and friend - my confidant - back together again after all these years. It came into my little one-room apartment and fit just where I had hoped it would. It'd been on the truck for 24 hours. I had to give it a chance to settle. I couldn't play it for a full day.
"We were in the same room together, unable to make music. I remember hugging it and polishing it. Then I went to bed. My bed was a high loft, and I looked down on my piano all night to make sure it was really there. The next day I sat down and “From a Distance” just poured out of me. On one hand, it took me two hours to write. On the other hand, it took me 30 years. Pick whichever hand makes you happy. I love them both. I sent “From a Distance” around to all my contacts, as usual, most did not even reply. Those who did found fault with my song. My friend and fellow songwriter, Christine Levin loved it and requested copies to send around to her friends and contacts. Within two weeks, my scratchy demo was getting radio play. Thanks to Christine I came home one day to a flashing message on my answering machine. There was a gentle, unknown voice identifying herself as Nancy Griffin. Christina had sent her the song. She loved it and was asking to record it. She recorded the song from a distance on her album for MCA.
"I saw her perform it live and observed her singing. Her audience sang along. That's when I realized that my life would never be the same. She sang that song all over the world and I was still very much a secretary. She would call me from Belfast to tell me how the song was affecting people all over the world. She took me out on the road with her several times, just so I could play the piano. She sang that one song, what incredible moments, getting love and honor from total strangers all because of one little song. Me basking in the light of a lifelong dream. I played Carnegie Hall with Nancy. All my relatives came up from Philadelphia to share the miracle. Most of them, including my mother, are immigrants. In many ways, I am their American dream. What an amazing dream it is.
"As I write this, I can't even believe it's true, but it really is. Even with all this glory. However, I was still a secretary. I lived in one little dark room. Still barely made enough money to survive. Believe it or not, I was just depressed and despondent. I remember crying on the phone to both my parents, who incidentally were never anything short of supportive, encouraging, and loving. With regard to my dream, I remember my desperation and how they tried to console me with their stereo pep talk didn't work. Finally, they asked what they could do to help me feel better. For the first time in my life. I asked them to please pay my rent for six months. They agreed.
"I left my job at HBO. I walked down Sixth Avenue crying all the way. Those were the best six months of my life. Finally, a full-time musician, I made my hours, I wrote my songs, I pitched, I played, I prayed. I sent songs to every singer in the world. I walked tall. I felt good. I received my first royalty check from foreign performances of “From a Distance.” That bought me another six months of freedom. During this time I received a call from Mark Shaiman, who identified herself as himself as Bette Midler’s music director. She was making a new record and they wanted to use “From a Distance.” They sent the demo back, recorded it. People seem to love it. I won a Grammy for the song of the year. In 1991 I was still living in one dark room, with no money, uncertain of my future.
"Yet my song was on the radio. I had won a Grammy. If that isn't a dream come true, what is? I'm now 55. I live in a beautiful condo with air light and the view of my beloved in New York, the city of dreams. I earned my living as a songwriter. I have hugged Burt Bacharach. I have dined with Lamont Dazier. I've met Paul McCarthy. I have heard “From a Distance,” in many languages. I have felt it in braille. I've heard it on music boxes. Then in elevators, I read it on greeting cards and then children's books. It has been played for astronauts in space. It is nothing short of a miracle. I am never anything but amazed and grateful for that miracle that happened to me."
I love that story because each of us is a miracle. When we follow our dreams, we allow ourselves to be even in the darkness, even in the small, one room with no money, we persist, we move. Move through the fear and desperation. We moved through it with a friend. We moved through it with each other. We are moving through this year of unknown, unsettling separation, which is not really separation at all.
We are one, we are one together. Okay? There are so many possibilities for each of us.
When we take the time to call out and ask for that guidance to achieve our dreams, they might be because each of us is on this planet at this time for a reason. It's not the same reason. None of us are all here together for one reason, other than love. Each of us has a path and a place, pushing mankind forward, humankind forward raising our consciousness and the consciousness of all those around us to the truth of love, to the truth of the miracles of life.
I'm honored to be sitting here, looking out my window, talking to you guys, and seeing the beauty in colors. I never thought to do this a year ago. Yet, everything’s changed. Nothing ever stays the same. We know this to be true when we're in that place of darkness,
Open the shades and let the light in. Call out to a friend. Go to prayer and ask for that guidance to fulfill the dream, whatever your dream is - from a distance. All things are possible. When we go with them, we follow our guidance to our dreams. We are free to live the miracle of life. We are free to soar with the eagles. We are free to manifest and create our purpose. We do it as individuals and we do it collectively in consciousness. It changes the world. We transform ourselves. We transform the world through love.
So from a distance, the world looks blue and green, the snow-capped mountains are white from a distance, the ocean meets the shore, the eagle takes flight from a distance, there is harmony, and it echoes through the land. It's the voice of hope, it's the voice of peace, it's the voice of each of us calling out to that friend. I'm honored to call you my friend.
I love each and every one of you. I can't wait to go back together again and hug together and build the joy.
Have a beautiful day Namaste.