The Ripple Effect
This morning I was standing in the kitchen and I heard singing. I quickly realized it was coming from my pocket. Not sure how Spotify opened or how my phone opened to a song I have never heard of, but it felt important. The song, Who Knows by Somewhere In Between:
Does anything we say even matter at all?
Does anybody really listen?
Will it be gone in an instant?
Who knows
If it'll make a difference?
Will anything we build stand the test of time
Or will it crumble to pieces?
And would we let that defeat us?
Who knows
If it'll make a difference?
If we smile at a stranger on the street does it matter at all?
Would it make a ripple?
Could it be that simple?
Who knows
If it'll make a difference?
Simple song, simple lyrics. Pretty. But why did my pocket feel the need to get that message to me at 7am on a Wednesday? Is it related to the impermanent nature of the Pocket Angels? Is the band name “Somewhere in Between” suggestive of my own state of mind these days? Was it LITERALLY an angel in my actual pocket?! Does it matter? Does it matter at all? Am I wasting my time? Are The Muppets correct in saying that life is like a movie? Can I write my own ending if I keep believing, keep pretending? Or are The Avett Brothers right in crooning that life is not at all like a movie because life isn’t two hours long? Is life scripted before we even begin?
The first time I remember writing about fate vs. freewill was in high school … an essay on Oedipus. I debated destiny with my dad, determined to prove that freewill was more powerful than fate. I don’t know why this gentle song made me think of that, think of sitting with my dad in the guest bedroom of our house on Woodlawn Court discussing Oedipus, but recalling that moment, that bonding with my dad made me feel nostalgic and grateful and kind of sad. I think that the answer to the question in the lyrcis is yes. Yes, it makes a difference. Every single ripple of a moment makes a difference. Every single glance, exchange, metaphor …
I once asked a medium about a relationship one of my kids was in and she responded, “It depends on how they both choose to move.” They noted that their souls had been intertwined for many lifetimes before this one and this time it was still an available strand for them to pursue, “but,” they said, “there are many strands available.” It reminded me of how we are always choosing and how we choose to dance in this lifetime, how we choose to vibrate becomes the magnet to what we create. It reminded me that fate is not linear, that time is not even real, and I suppose that line of thinking looped me back to, “Who knows if it will make a difference?” If we are fated to get to our destiny I suppose what matters is which strand we weave. That’s the journey, right? Did Oedipus have a Pocket Angel?
I looked around my kitchen, surrounded with Pocket Angels, clay, paper pulp, tins full of melted wax, stacks of packages needing to be mailed and I thought, “Am I crazy? Will this even matter?” I have been saying mantras every day, joyfully vibrating in phrases like “for good of all,” and “I am manifesting …” and then today happened. How could I not pay attention to the universe speaking to me through my pockets? Isn’t that fate? Aren’t I supposed to listen to the signy signs? I can’t just mantra away and then IGNORE “coincidences.” I have been sitting with this all day, perplexed by my sudden doubt.
Just now I opened the Spotify app and looked up the band. It’s a married couple (Deena and Austin) and the first song they ever wrote together were their wedding vows. Shortly after they married Deena was diagnosed with mouth cancer and worried she would never be able to sing again. Their saga is a sweet one, filled with promise and vulnerability and love. They write, “when asked what kind of music we make, we say, ‘the kind that helps us navigate life through all of its twists and turns.’” The funny thing is that I don’t know them. Until ten hours ago, I had never heard of them. I cannot help but think it’s fate that they reached me this morning, especially because the last section of their “about” section reads, “Somewhere in Between awake and asleep, our questions get answered and songs get written. Somewhere in Between you and me is us.”
I think we get one go around at this version of us. I don’t know if it will matter. What I know for certain is that even if it doesn’t, even if we just die and there is a black hole of nothingness, I am going to have fun imagining I am making a difference. I am going to choose the strands that sing.
