They know you are a song. Woven and wrought by the heavens, and placed here as a gift from God to surprise and delight all of this universe. Your melody and my melody and the melodies of all mankind form a concerto more exquisite than any music ever written by man. Of course, we can't hear the music when our mind is busy with its ordinary run of thoughts. Others, not even knowing why, will find themselves responding to its sheer beneficence.
Inner music is accessible forever.
So during this holy week, find a chair, move into it, breathe deeply. Let all your judgments, your doubts, your fears, your tapes drop away. Close your eyes, listen to your breath, and let your thoughts drift where they will. And now listen for the music, the centersound, the You of you singing its own private lovesong. When you have reached the depth of Quiet that allows your song to reveal itself, it will not only bless you, but it will also bless every brother and sister you have ever met.