Chapter 4 The Silence
My father always introduced me in the same way, “This is Maeley, my pianist prodigy.”
I’d stare uncomfortably at my feet while he chuckled pridefully, “She graduated beyond me before she was seven.”
To be honest, I felt relieved to move past Dad’s tutelage, which is how I came to study under Lauren Cohen. Ms. Lauren was the most accredited piano instructor in our county.
Ms. Lauren was highly skilled in her methods of teaching music theory and classical compositions, but she was also much more -- she was a sage, and she artfully integrated her insights into our weekly lessons.
She was probably the greatest gift privilege afforded me.
My mother and Ms. Lauren became good friends. Mom would enter the studio at the end of my lessons and swiftly usher me out to our Escalade, where I waited, while the two of them conversed in private.
But Mom wasn’t the only one who confided in Ms. Lauren.
I was actually encouraged by my mother to share my struggles with my wise teacher. Mom’s eyes would sparkle as she’d gently touch my arm and say, “Maeley, you need someone outside our family to talk to.”
Setting foot in Ms. Lauren’s studio was like entering a different realm. Walls lined with philosophical books and vintage fine art surrounded two grand pianos. Ms. Lauren’s softly lit space created an immediate calming effect. I felt safe there.
An hour each week with Ms. Lauren fueled my passion for creativity -- and also gave me respite from the anxiety that was festering in my young heart.
I would spill the contents of my ponderings onto the piano keys while Ms. Lauren listened deeply.
Naturally, my father played a starring role in our discussions.
Dad had acquired a habit of pacing the hallway outside our piano room while he spoke on the phone. When his voice was raised, which it often was, I could hear his shouting from my bench while I practiced.
I told Ms. Lauren about my unintentional eavesdropping, and its content -- which was confirmed in detail by my father a decade later, right before he died. But even as a young teen I perceived the meaning of Dad’s cynical blustering about lawsuits from leaking underground oil tanks, which were leaving people sick and dying.
I divulged my fiery disapproval in an ever-rising voice, “My dad isn’t even sad about these suffering people. No, he’s actually angry with them.”
Lauren sat quietly before responding, “Maeley, anger is contagious.”
Her words created a conscious shock as I realized her admonition was meant for me.
Yes, I was being sucked in and pulled down by Dad’s undertow. But my teacher wasn’t devising a plan to save my father from his own destruction. No, she was showing me how to swim up and break through the surface of negativity to liberate myself.
I inquired, “Ms. Lauren, if anger is contagious, how do I keep from catching it?”
Her eyes glimmered as she whispered about the silent place inside my heart where light resides. She said that inner stillness and high vibration can transform anger’s density.
I didn’t understand at first, but she guided me slowly. “Maeley, close your eyes. Now, imagine you’re alone in your forest. Listen to the … silence. Can you feel the light growing within you?”
Yes, I could feel it, like I was floating above the ground.
She continued. “Now, take that silent light, extend it around you, and carry it with you -- everywhere you go.”
The Silence
There’s a little light inside you, inside you
Beyond your age and time, inside you, inside you
A quiet voice will guide you
Expand the light around you
If anger stands beside you
Face it and say you can’t come in
Where you begin
Is in the silence
Beneath your skin
You are the silence
Our galaxy at night wraps its arms around you
Beyond your field of sight the universe surrounds you
Gravity may ground you
But heaviness might drown you
If bitterness confounds you
Face it and say I won’t let you win
Where you begin
Is in the silence
Beneath your skin
You are the silence, the silence
The silence
Dance
To nature’s rhythm
Your heartbeat is a drum
Count on the one
Sing with the turning sun
Then leave space to listen
Root in
Again
Again and again
Again and again and again and again
Again and again and again and again
Again and again and again and again
You are the silence
Beneath your skin
You are the silence
Where you begin
Is in the silence
Hidden within you
There is a silence
A silence
United with the light
Where you begin
Is in the silence
You’ve always been
There in the silence, the silence
Invite it, ignite it
Again and again and again and again
Again and again and again and again