A Lesson Learned...

When I had the opportunity to go to Ghana last summer, I wanted to bring my three-month old nephew (at the time) something back. When I saw the tiny drum in the craft market, I knew I had to get it.

Needless to say, a three-month old had no interest in the tiny drum covered in kente cloth even if it did make a really cool sound when I hit it with his tiny hand. So, my mother put it up on a shelf where the rest of us could “enjoy” it. But that’s not really what a drum is for is it? It’s meant to be heard, to respond to the manipulations of one’s hands, to resound loudly in chorus or alone. That’s what a drum is made to do. Nonetheless, the tiny drum sat high away from my nephew’s hands and remained still and quiet.

Last month, my not-so-tiny any more nephew turned a year old. While I was home, helping prepare the house for his birthday party, something told me to move the drum down to a level that he could reach. I didn’t put it in his toy box, and I didn’t make a big deal about moving it. What I did do was hit the tiny surface before I placed it on the low sub-woofer next to the TV.

Two or three days later, I had forgotten that I’d even moved it. My nephew, who is a lover of all music, toddled over to the area of the drum and pondered it for a split second. Before we knew anything, he’d snatched it from its perch, squatted with it, and placed it right side up on the floor in front of him. With not a moment’s hesitation, his little hands started hitting the skin and he grinned in delight.

It was cute when it happened. But I don’t think I internalized the lesson until today. I learned two important things. First, the drum did not forget its purpose just because everyone else around it did. And second, no one has to teach children to do what is already in their nature. As an Akan wisdom statement says, “No one points out Nyame (God) to a child.”

It does not matter if everyone else fails to recognize your Divine purpose in this life as long as when the time is right you are ready to step into your Divinely appointed position. That drum didn’t forget how to make noise just because it was up on a shelf where it wasn’t touched. It simply waited and Spirit moved those around it in such a way that it finally got its chance to shine (or sound as it were). Moreover, no one had to remind the drum, or the Spirit within my nephew, what to do when the time was right. Both the drum and my nephew had the Divine intuition to simply do what was most natural for each of them to do. So here’s what I learned: When we are in tune with the timing of the Divine—allowing ourselves to be moved and to be ready—music happens.

In Peace, Love, and Light,
tdp