Remember Me

 

                                    Remember me…

 

Yesterday my koto teacher was talking about something she did something to remember a relative by, similar to something my mom did this year, to remember her brother by. By baking his favorite recipe to share, and then handing the recipe out.

                She also talked about the movie Coco.

                                And the song, remember me.

 I decided to look the song up, as it’s been a while since I watched the movie. 

                            I listened to the song several times, and it made me cry. It pulled on something inside me.

                                As, it seems at times, extremely hard to remember, the me, beyond what we see, in ourselves, and others.

                          Many of us have traveled far.

                        Far away from who we really are.

                     And we search, not knowing, all we are looking for is a remembrance.

                      Past our many disguises.

                                It seems most us in life have forgotten our essential nature.

                                And that of others around us.

                                And if you are lucky, someone remembers, and gives you a song, a remembrance.

                                                And if you remember yourself, enough.

                                                You sing that song to others. As best you can.

                                                So they can remember too

                                                Most of the real us is hidden under many, many layers.

                                                So many masks.

                                                That we aren’t.

                                                Accumulations.

                                                And it’s hard to see through those things.

                                                So many Mothers, and Fathers, and brothers, and sisters, mostly forgetting, sometimes remembering.

                                                And as I look, and see all these things.

                                                The people that are difficult to love, and prickly, and mean, and angry.

                                                With many rules, so hard to navigate.

                                                I think spirit looks out. The great mother, and father of us all.

                                                And asks…

                                                To remember.

                                                The me that is hidden.

                                                The great mother hidden beneath all mothers, and daughters.

                                                The great father, hidden beneath all sons and fathers.

                                                Remember me…

                                                This is what I hear.

                                                Remember me…

                                                Looking into the eyes of the old, and young.

                                                Remember me…

                                                Remember a time when love was something you could tangibly see, and feel within each soul. And no one forgot.         

                                                Remember me.

                                                Is the song playing on most guitars. Most anyone singing. Doing a thing. Whatever the thing is that their doing.

                                                Remember me.

                                                Who is it that we are remembering?

                                                The soul.

                                                The real.

                                                The love we are made of.

                                                Everyone is here, in the way that they can be.

                                                And sometimes the way feels a little hard.

                                                But if we look within ourselves.

                                                And see.

                                                And we sing to ourselves.

                                                A remembrance.

                                                And then we sing our remembrance to those around us.

                                                And one day, we’ll all wake up, and remember…

                Ourselves.  

                   The one hidden beneath the many.

                    The field of love connecting us all, speaking through the cracks of life.

                    Shining through.

                    Showing us, piece by piece the masterpiece.

                    That life is.