The Song of the Crickets

Dusk. This is the time of the day where the crickets start singing. For one reason or another, their singing has always brought sadness to me. When I was growing up, I used to hear that crickets sang for rain and, sometimes, in their effort, they would perish.

I do not know if this is true. In Latin America, there are so many stories told! I’ve just held on to that belief all these years, and, so when I hear them singing, I feel sad. I mourn their loss because they are willing to sacrifice their life for what they most desire.

Today I feel that way too. I feel like I can die tonight for the one I love. I feel like I could give up everything I have so he would not forsake me. It’s so absurd, like a cricket’s song. It’s only rain, for Pete’s sake! Why would die for something like this?

It’s only man, I hear my friends saying. He is just a man. Not for me. This isn’t just a man. This is the man I was born to meet. This is the man that makes me feel certain about the why I was born a woman.

It’s hard to explain emotions these days. We seem to be conditioned by society to conceal our true selves. I see it all the time, even with the people closest to me. I really don’t know what’s in the air that makes people live their lives with so much fear.

People fear everything and anyone. See, me, I am not that way. I was raised to be demure, conventional, understanding, pacifist, but I have single handedly chosen to rebel against all of the things I was brought up to believe.

My communion with God is unorthodox too. I am a Jew. I am a child of Israel. I have learned to love and respect all of my traditions, for these were the teachings and the legacy of Abraham and Moses. However, I do not see myself attending Sabbath services to prove myself to Him. My relationship with God is that which I would have with my best friend. Seriously, it would be absurd to try and lie to God. He can see right through me anyway.

I have nothing to regret or apologize for. I cannot, must not apologize for wanting to live my life with a heart full of passion. I feel ashamed, honestly, for those people out there who would walk away from their happiness out of fear to be cast out.

I surround myself with brave people. I like to call friends men and women who are willing to be cast out, and despite of this feeling, they still dare to be true to themselves. That takes courage.

In one of my past lives I was burned alive for holding on to my convictions, for sticking to my truth. I just know this. It’s a gut feeling. I’m sure a hypnotist would confirm this allegation.

And, honestly, I am not surprised if I was once punished for being myself. Society has never been kind to those who are different. I am not fit for this world, and that’s a reality. I could seat and call this a curse, or, I can turn things around and say that I have actually been blessed. In a world so full of corruption and false values, I think there is a great need of people, especially women, who would dare to be different. God has planted people like me in this world for a reason. There is very few of us, few and very far in between.

I am lucky to have a group of friends which I consider to be different. Sadly, I also see these friends succumbing to the absurdity of society. I see them hiding their true colors behind a mask that doesn’t fit nor suits them. What’s worse, they know this and they still wear the darn mask because they just are afraid.

People like me are, somehow, forced to live in the shadow. We are all about color and fullness and passion, and, yet, is our fate to not see the light.

I have my words to speak about light for me. I let the world see through this window which reflects my heart entirely.

Who hasn’t heard the legend of the thorn bird? Colleen McCollough recreates such legend in her classic, The Thorn Birds, marvelously given life in a TV series I grew up adoring.

It says like this:

“There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out-carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain…. Or so says the legendâÂ?¦.”

What if we dared to be thorn birds? What if we were willing to give our own existence for what’s most precious and beautiful? What if we really go through life searching for that one thing that will make us all shine? God would be content indeed. This is what I think God wishes from us.

I believe that God wants us, at all times, to be ourselves. To those who wear a mask, God reprimand. In His heart, he grows sad at the sight of His child living his precious days in fear, trembling and giving up what’s truly precious to him or her.

I am no expert on love. I have had my good share of mistakes, but, one thing is for sure, I refuse to be jaded. I refuse to not let passion lead me. I don’t know any other way of being happy, really.

I have so many dreams still to dream and my life is not always organized. People like me are not good with palm pilots or agendas or protocol. Often, it gets us in trouble. People like me are not meant to live their days by-the-book. I am the one that despises convention.

One of my mottos is: “I make my own rules. I break my own rules.”

I praise the crickets tonight. I surely hope that legend I grew up hearing is not true. However, if it is true, then I think we have a lesson to learn.

Like a cricket, let’s praise the skies for beauty. Let’s sing loud, even if we run out of air. Let’s die for what we must have. Let’s consume this world’s pessimism and absurdity! Let’s fly high and low like a thorn bird until we find the place where our song will be heard, where our love will blossom. Yes, let the thorn pierce our heart. It’s worth dying for our truth.

I want to live a hundred years, but only if my colors and my words are to paint the earth’s obscurity. I want to live a hundred years only if I can watch the children of this earth grow up without any fears, without false convictions.

I want to be around for a hundred years if only to see my heart explode with love and passion, singing for life.