The following story comes from a traditional story passed on in Griot tradition, rewritten by Jane Maluka. Dan Millman, Author of Way of the Peaceful Warrior, reworked it for his newsletter in April 2005.
“When a woman in one African tribe knows she is pregnant, she goes out into the wilderness with a few friends and together they pray and meditate until they hear the song of the child.
They recognize that every soul has its own vibration that expresses its unique flavor and purpose.
When the women attune to the song, they sing it out loud. Then they return to the tribe and teach it to everyone else.
And when children are born into the village, the community gathers and sings their song, one unique melody for each unique child.
Later, when children begin their education, the village gathers and chants each child’s song. They sing again when each child passes into the initiation of adulthood, and at the time of marriage.
Finally, when the soul is about to pass from this world, the family and friends gather at the bedside, as they did at birth, and they sing the person to the next life. In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the Villagers sing to the child: If at any time during a person’s life, he or she commits a crime or aberrant social act, that individual is called to stand in the center of a circle formed by all members of the tribe. And once again the villagers chant the child’s song.
The tribe recognizes that the proper correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment, but love and the remembrance of identity.
When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another. A friend is someone who knows your song and sings it to you when you have forgotten it.
Those who love you are not fooled by the mistakes you have made or the dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.
You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not.
When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song, and we shall sing it well.
You may feel a little wobbly at that moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.
This real-life African Tribal practice mirrors modern discoveries from half a world away by modern masters such as Royal Rife, Sharry Edwards and Donna Eden. These vibrational energy pioneers have independently detected that people have a fundamental color or frequency, which can be equated to their unique song. This signature sound persists throughout life.
We may not have been formally given a song at birth as in African tribes, but we each radiate frequencies. Literally, we are a collection of vibrations, a song. The body radiates its song – sounds that are too tiny in volume for one to notice. Others subconsciously react to these “vibes” and they have a multitude of subtle energy effects, such as initial impressions and “gut” feelings.
We are vibrational beings and our daily vibrational composition changes along with our health and emotional states, but our fundamental song is constant: Our body seeks to simply play its song in harmony! This releases endorphins – a sense of pleasure and well-being ensues. Humans innately seek out natural sounds that reinforce and strengthen their songs. Some prefer the sound of the pounding sea, others seek out bird songs or the wailing wind in remote locales. Even the stars and heavens offer songs to us that we can intuitively detect with our feelings. We sense the magic in the midnight sky, as stars radiate frequencies below our hearing range. These subtle vibrations create beneficial cell-to-cell vibrations within. We are one with the universe. Our song contributes a small part in the infinite chorus of all creation.
In a remote, but intimately connected tradition, I once visited a desolate Indian settlement in Northeastern Canada. Their Wiseman gave me a tour of the humble, even impoverished village. Out of the way, along the route I saw a carefully tended field that held perhaps 100 colorful birdhouses supported on poles, well off the ground. I asked the Shaman what was the significance of the birdhouses? He replied that these houses were their Tribe’s burial markers; each birdhouse honored a grave. The remarkable part was that many wild birds made their homes in these small structures – singing their characteristic songs for the memory of departed souls – to the glory and beauty of nature and the nourishment of the living.