“Well I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord”

– Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah

I’ve been listening for that chord. 

It haunts me.  Just when I think I hear it, it slips away like a distant echo.  A foghorn on the black lake in the mist.

Years ago, in Thailand, I heard someone call my name.  I turned around, and there was a guy I didn’t recognize.  He was incredulous.

“Don’t you remember me?”

“No.  How do I know you?”

“We spent last summer in Taiwan together.”

“I wasn’t in Taiwan last summer.  In fact, I was only there once as a child.”

“No, dude, you were there.  It’s me Carter.”

“Carter?  Well, I don’t know how you know me but I don’t think we ever met before.”

We ended up spending days together.

We talked and talked. It was as if every question I had, he had the answer to.  And every question he had, I had the answer to.  It was like the secret chord was not a sound, but rather a conversation.

I slip in and out of periods of extreme magic. 

Unswerving faith in an invisible sun and powerful connection with a force.

And then I go all the way to the other side.

It’s like the title of a book I read long ago:  power versus force.

Sometimes I’m surfing the waves of power. 

Effortless, magical waves of abundance flow through me.

And then I get stranded on a rock.

Unable to move, marooned for what feels like eternity. 

No matter how hard I try, it seems I make little progress.

And then I remember to let it go. 

I breathe into the wind.  I let it lift me and somehow I get a little lighter.  The color of the light changes and I begin to move with flow.  The distant mountain that I so desperately sought flashes by me as I reach even higher vistas without effort.  I smile with relief.

Until I forget it all again.

Lately, I’ve been remembering again.

It all begins with internal dialog.  Is it filled with awe and gratitude?  Or has it turned to checklists and self-critiques?

I begin to practice saying it over and over.

“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”

And a slight tingle begins.

“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”

I try to remember this throughout the day.

It’s easiest to remember in the grey dawn light before lists and worries start to crowd the edges of my mind.

“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”

Today I awoke at 4:34 am.

I laid in bed with my mantra.  Letting it flush through me, a golden sparkly white light coming in waves.

And out there, on the edge, somewhat distant, I think I hear it.

The secret chord.

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