Musical Medicine

Last night Camille and I went to experience Nahko and Medicine for the People at Union Transfer. This wasn’t a concert but an an encounter with healing medicine, medicine not just capable of healing the world but ourselves. We’ve been Nahko fans since about May, right when two people very close to me transitioned. Nahko’s musical medicine helped me gain perspective in a challenging time, turning my focus towards love instead of loss.

We were in the front as Nahko & MFTP played their battle cries of peace, unity, and unwavering love for mankind. Together we proclaimed “Aloha” and “Mahalo” so all of Philly could hear us. We were building bridges between races and cultures, between belief systems and waking consciousness. We were encouraged to advocate for our common home and support our brothers and sisters trying to protect it, like the people of Hawaii trying to save the sacred Mauna Kea. Together, we can make a change. Together, we will make a change.

There was one potent moment last night that changed me for good. After a long build up, Nahko was singing, “What a Beautiful Life,” over and over. I raised my hands, closed my eyes, and began to cry. My heart was beating out of my chest and I was filled with God. I felt the full embrace of my body and my soul. I became One with all that is, and I’ve never been happier. I’ve felt this before, but it’s always a fleeting moment. These few experiences are the best moments of my life.

My physiology professor and whoever else says “the heart is just a pump” have clearly never had an experience like this. The heart is what connects our conscious soul and our earthly experience. It’s home to the soul, the dwelling place of our very being. It’s where the Kingdom of God is—right here and within us. Nahko and Medicine for the People helped me remember that again.

To all who made last night so magical and healing, Mahalo. We are in this together. You will be in my heart forever.

Elliptical Flow

I used to hate ellipticals. Nothing spoils your day like moving as fast as you can while making no apparent progress. But this past week I’ve been dealing with some tendonitis in my foot, so I opened my mind and tried it again.

I have this fancy health-tracking device called an Ōura ring. It shows me everything from my REM sleep to my heart rate during activities and everything in between. I’ve noticed that when I go for a run, my heart rate is “high” the entire time. Makes sense. But when I swim (and I just began swimming recently) or aqua jog my heart rate is “medium.” That’s about the same as a brisk walk.

But when I’m on the elliptical? It’s “high.” Looks like it’s time to give it another shot.

So on Thursday I made a playlist of Nahko & Medicine for the People (my new favorite band) and hopped on the elliptical. I held myself accountable – I wouldn’t get off until 40 minutes elapsed. At first it was boring, then I found my stride and started to feel the music.

Then around minute 25, something happened. Love Letters to God came on. I closed my eyes and my strides per minute increased by 25% (up to 250). I reached deep into the emotions I’ve been hiding for the past 4 months: getting injured, having a disappointing track season, my grammy dying, my friend dying. I was almost in tears. I kept this pace up for 6 minutes without a break.

Call it Flow State, call it The Zone, call it Feeling Yourself. I was deep in it, all because of the elliptical.

Is there a moral to this story? Maybe. To stop judging things predicated on preconceived notions might be a good start.