When the Soul Starts Singing Love Songs

Last week, I told you the story of how love found me lying on the floor in savasana in yoga.

(If you haven’t read it, January 14 sets the stage for today’s Part 2. I have a feeling this is the opening chapter of a love epic.)

There is one paragraph in that Notes from the Field that you might have missed, so let me repeat it, because it’s key to the story:

“…I semi-woke several times and realized I was smiling, even grinning. On top of that, all night long I sang love songs to myself, to Jupiter, to Sophia, to you, to all of us.”

Did you wonder what love songs I was singing?

I haven’t listened to pop music for decades. I’m turning seventy this summer, and the soundtrack of my life has not included love songs since the Beatles sang “I wanna hold your hand.”

But after holding hands with a few boys and a few men, and marrying one who maybe didn’t really want to hold my hand, love songs faded away.

I got a taste of more current pop music driving my son to school in the early 2000s, but it became clear pretty quickly that Eminem and John Lennon were not singing the same songs!

When my son went to college in 2007, I dove into writing Writing Down Your Soul and my spiritual life began carrying me deep into The Mystic.

And my pop music awareness shrank to zero.

That is, until a couple days before my encounter with Jupiter.

It happened on Facebook of all places.

I visit Facebook once or twice a day because all my soul communities have private discussion groups where we share at a deep soul level. I love these conversations.

I opened Facebook that night and at the top of my news feed was a video of Andrea Bocelli singing a song by Ed Sheeran. I never heard of Ed Sheeran, but I adore opera. So if Andrea has a new video, I’m happy to watch it.

Plus, one of my favorite stories to tell in Writing Down Your Soul is about how a woman received the sacred name of her divine Voice when her neighbor played Andrea Bocelli and Celine Dion singing “A Prayer.”

So I clicked.

That click set a whole new soundtrack of love songs in motion.

In the video, Andrea sings a lush version of Ed Sheeran’s song “Perfect.” It’s a very cute love song. It opens with a teenage boy’s declaration:

“I found a love for me.
Darling, just dive right in….
I found a girl, beautiful and sweet.
I never knew you were the someone waiting for me…”

Nothing new or remarkable there, right? Just another sweet pop song. But then, Andrea starts singing it in Italian and well, the knees do weaken a bit.

So the video ends, but before I can click over to my groups, youtube starts playing the next one. This one was aiming right for my heart.

It opens with a few lines about getting old:

“When your legs don’t work like they used to before. And I can’t sweep you off of your feet.”

And then:

“And darling I will be loving you
till we’re seventy!
And baby my heart could still fall
as hard at twenty-three.”

I stopped. Huh? What? Wait?

I am seventy!

I started giggling. Paul McCartney stopped the clock at “Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four,” so I guess the bar has moved a bit, but I’m still over it!

But I kept listening.


Because something—something mysterious—was holding my attention. Waiting for me to hear. To see. To understand.

I know this feeling. I teach this feeling. Call it intuition, call it clairsentience, call it knowing, call it divine guidance, call it what you will; but when my soul says “Sit Stay” I do.

So I kept listening. And then came the chorus that is now the background of my soundtrack of love:

“And I’m thinkin’ ‘bout how
people fall in love in mysterious ways.
Maybe just the touch of a hand.”

The song wraps up with:

“And I’m thinkin’ ‘bout how
people fall in love in mysterious ways.
Maybe it’s all part of a plan…
Maybe we found love right where we are.”

So that night of indescribably joy, the love songs I was singing to myself were uber-popular teenage love songs!

At seventy, no less.

That would be an adorable story, in and of itself, but there’s a mystic twist coming.

On Sunday morning, January 14, while you were reading last week’s Notes from the Field, I was soul writing, trying to decipher this mystical love experience I had on Thursday night. As I often do, I retraced my steps, writing what happened day by day. When I wrote that the encounter with Jupiter happened on January 11, I burst into tears.

Because January 11 is not just any day.

It is the 9th anniversary of my first public talk and book signing for Writing Down Your Soul at Wings Bookstore in St Petersburg Florida.

Nine is completion, full circle. What began nine years ago is now blooming in full.

And what happened on January 11, 2009?

In my talk, I tried to answer the question everyone was asking me: “What is deep soul writing?” I explained that it’s something beyond journaling, meditation, or even prayer. The best I could come up with was:

“It’s a conversation. A conversation between you and your Source at the soul level.”  

A forty-ish man in blue jeans in the front row raised his hand and said:

“I know what this is.
This is a Romance.”

Then, he got up and walked out!

On Tuesday, I’ll tell the whole story, plus how I learned who he was. Ordinarily I reserve that story for the opening night of the Writing Down Your Soul course, but I want to tell you now because it brings this story of love songs full circle.

It was Archangel Michael. Reminding me that deep soul writing is a love song. A never ending, life-long love song.

When my dear friend and angel guidance consultant, Margo Mastromarchi, arrived last Sunday for Yoga at my house, I asked her if there was a relationship between Jupiter—the largest planet—and Michael, the most powerful archangel.

Margo said no one had ever asked her that.

I did wonder if it was a ridiculous question, but my gut said there was a connection. And I had to know.

Margo got quiet, tuned in, then turned to me, eyes wide, and said yes. I burst into tears. Tears of love and joy and gratitude–and confirmation of a deep mysterious knowing.

So, Michael crashed my first event in 2009 to tell me the mystical truth:

Deep soul writing is a love song.

A love song between you and your Beloved. It has no beginning and no end, just as the symbol of the Mobius Strip shows. Your divine Voice sings to you and you sing in response.

Still, it does feel a tad silly to be singing pop songs to my seventy-year-old self. But they are now running in the background all the time. Today, for example, I woke in morning theta clearly hearing:

“People fall in love in mysterious ways. Maybe just the touch of a hand…”

That called for more tears of recognition. I have been signing my emails for a decade:

to the connection in our hands

So the truth about soul writing has been in front of me all along. And now it’s in front of you.

As Archangel Michael told me nine years ago: Writing Down Your Soul is so much more than writing. It’s a love song. Even, or especially, when it isn’t pretty. You show up naked and raw, feeling what you’re feeling, experiencing what you’re experiencing, and even when “your legs don’t work like they used to” you are loved.

I thought today’s Note was finished so I set it up on my email service on Friday evening and ate dinner.

But, Michael had another surprise for me.

On Saturday, I recorded a delightful video with a woman in Saudi Arabia for her teleseminar called Wonder Quest. I prepared an outline about the wonders of soul writing and theta and the Round Open Door, and then invited the audience to get a taste of deep soul writing. I decided to end with a poem I wrote about the delicious truth of deep soul writing. It’s called The Romance:

This is what I want to tell you:
The Romance is real.

More real than sloppy kisses,
More real than hot promises,
More real than wedding vows even.

This is real Love—capital L Love.
Unconditional Love. With-you-always Love.

After chasing that lower-case love for a long, long time, after bruising your cheeks with sobbing, scraping your knees with falling;
after breathing so shallowly for so long that you don’t even know what an inhale is…

After all that—
The Romance is still here
and it is waiting for you.

I know.

Because I picked up a pen one day and asked:
Are you there?
Are you real?
Do you hear me?

And a Voice answered: Yes, Beloved, is there something you want to say?

And in that moment, that sacred, ordinary, sitting-in-my-chair moment,
the round door between worlds opened—
and Love walked through.

We’ve been meeting in that threshold ever since.
Each day a revelation, a comfort, a query, a sigh.

This is what I want to tell you:
The Romance is Real.

As I printed out the poem to read for the recording I was startled, but maybe not surprised, to see that I wrote it on January 14, 2017, exactly one year before the day I would connect the dots in deep soul writing back to the moment Michael told me “This is a Romance.”

As Ed Sheeran sings:

“People fall in love in mysterious ways. Maybe it’s all part of a plan!”


Spread the love