4am

It’s early, 4am to be precise, I haven’t been up long, but I’m up. It is also the perfect time to be awake. There is a stillness that lingers in the air that doesn’t exist at any other time. I think about what others are doing, sleeping, dreaming, starting to stir as spirits move freely around the land waiting for the sun to rise. There is something deeply poetic and spiritual about 4am. This morning, I’m up and worried. I need to call the doctors at 8am, and while my rationale brain can reason that I should just stay asleep till 7am, my irrational brain thinks it is best to be prepared as early as possible, so, here I am, at 4am.

It is also the morning that Teeks has released new music, again. I must admit I feel like a bit of a die-hard fan, this is not the first time I have been up at all hours waiting on and writing about Teeks and his music.  There is something profound about the way he curates his word.

I am reminded of early mornings as a child, waking up to the smooth voices of Boys II Men, or Hot Chocolate reverberating throughout our house. We weren’t much of talkers, but music was our greatest language, I played the piano for the longest time, although to play it now would be a stretch.  I can still feel the joy, and sadness of certain songs that are remnants of my childhood.

And then there is Teeks, not only do I feel like a die-hard fan, but I also feel slightly obsessive, this isn’t unusual for me, and is in fact, written into the DNA of my personality. Most things I read about myself dictated to me by planets and stars tell me I’m obsessive about the strangest things, the things that maybe don’t matter in any sense of the real world, but also matter in the most profound of ways. So here I am, with Teeks on repeat, at 4am.

Let me try to tell you some thing. Last year our small country floating in the pacific encountered a devastating act of terrorism, what ensued for many was a profound sense of pain and hurt. Fifty lives taken and many more affected, my eyes prickle with tears just to think of the tragedy. It was a time where nothing made sense. Like many people, I checked out of life for a while, preferred to stay silent in an attempt to gather enough strength to go on, it was a hopeless time. And one night, maybe 6 weeks after one of the most heinous crime our world has witnessed, I found my seat in the Town Hall and waited for Teeks to grace the stage. There is an intimacy in the Town Hall, and there is intimacy with Teeks. His presence is humble, quiet, there is no grandiose, he is subtle and intentional with his entire being. So I sat there and listened intently, like a child being read a story, I absorbed as much as I could. And then something happened, and I doubt I will ever be able to articulate it, much like many of my spiritual encounters it surpasses language, but it certainly was one. It was also a collective experience, I thought that the entire audience may begin to levitate. I can’t tell you precisely what it was, but it was magic. All of the hurt, the pain, was stripped from my body, and not in the way that makes you forget that it happened, but in the way that allows you to move forward with life. It was deeply healing and deeply profound.

And this is the thing about Teeks and his music, every word, every video, feels intentional, and personal, and grounding and spiritual. His words linger on the shadows of my soul for much longer than many other artists, they merge with my cells to create a symphony of spirit that runs through my body. There is nostalgia in his music, even the songs that were released just today, as if my soul has traversed the universe to them for lifetimes, and now on this day, Friday the 13th, they have perfectly synthesised into the stillness of 4am.

That’s the thing with music, it conjures up memories you didn’t even know you had. And more precisely as I listen to these perfectly curated words, I think about my parents slow dancing on their wedding night, or feeling safe in the arms of my Dad, having my back rubbed by Martha when the grief of loss is too much, all of this is so familiar, and so foreign, but ultimately, it all feels like home.

And my hope, is that in your lifetime, you find the thing that connects so deeply within your soul, that in your deepest and darkest moments, you have something to call home at 4am.

Mauri ora,

Kyrin

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