The other night I took the bravest action I’ve ever taken—and as my life has proven, I’m no stranger to courage. But this was the one thing I hadn’t wanted to face. The box. The one I assumed I’d open only at the end of this lifetime.
Did it contain something traumatic? Not at all. Inside were cards, letters and email print outs from those who’d written to thank me, celebrate me, or share their love for me. Notes I’d only given a cursory, Oh how sweet of him/her before tossing aside. Yet something within me was wise enough to toss them into one place.
Then, why so daunting? It was evidence. It required me to actually receive back the love I’d given out, and I dreaded it. I knew it would hurt. I’d have to open my real heart—not the one I claimed to open, but the one ever deeper.
But it was time. I turned off my phone, poured a glass of water, and took the oversized shoebox into the living room. I opened it and pulled out the first card. 1989. My dear friend James with whom I’d worked the streets of Brooklyn for a political party had been diagnosed with AIDS. Before he passed, he wrote to say how much he loved me and how I was to remember that I possess the inner strength to surpass any obstacle that comes my way. Your love for life, he wrote, your love for music will pull you through it all. I sat for several minutes to fully absorb his words. Yes, I am that strength.
Next, a note from someone who’d heard me give a talk in Toronto, Ontario in 2016. She wrote, It is a joy to listen to you share the pure love of God. Again, it took several minutes to alter my self-perception.
One card looked spookily similar to the cover of The Abundance Project, a book by Derek Rydall whose life-changing course in Awakened Wealth Mastery I’m currently studying. Another thank you note signed with love from Larry had no last name, and I’m still trying to remember. But it contained a quote from my favorite inspirational teacher, Harold Klemp: It is truly the rare person adventuresome enough to explore his inner domain.
I read slowly. I had to stop at five cards as my heart was overflowing. I have perhaps hundreds—from former students (and their parents) whom I taught and directed, from colleagues and co-workers, friends and family, co-stars and audience members.
Now I don’t have a choice. I cannot turn back. I must relinquish my mind’s belief that my life has been a failure, that I’m not loved, and that I’ve done nothing valuable for God. I can no longer feed others while starving myself out.
As I read one a day, I’ll keep learning to receive. I’m finally willing to take responsibility for what I’ve circulated for decades. And I am among the wealthiest of people.