Like an orchestra tuning up on a stage overexposed to the light, the whole world looks like a big Asterix-style discord at the moment. The best way to confuse one piece of information is to add a second, then a third, and so on and so forth ! In hypnosis this is called "saturation".

As in music, our ear can hear a multitude of voices inside, but outside, physically, the most skillful among us will only be able to follow three voices on average in a perfectly autonomous way. Then, polyphony - this superimposition of voices - will give way to harmony, that is to say a block of notes forming a general color, or to the cluster, an aggregate of dissonances. It is this cluster that has been exacerbating our ears, our hearts and our reason over the last few weeks and even months, like the loud sirens of official cars in the deserted streets of our cities. Movement accelerando prestissimo sforzando in front of a stunned audience !

So what to do with this surrounding noise ?

Many artists and musicians in particular no longer have the opportunity to let their vibration resonate, to transmit their music to the world. Beyond the radical cultural and artistic suppression decided by the current politicians, I wonder if it is not time to question our inner silence precisely, this space between two notes, right where we really live. When the painter's canvas is scribbled with all the colors, what can we create in it, if not to put back the distance between ourselves and the work ?

With each brushstroke, we take the responsibility to add an extra touch to the story. No matter how small, this brushstroke is each one of our smallest daily gestures. But what about our gestures precisely ? Not the gestures paradoxically referred to as "barriers" by the marketing boards of politicians in action. No, the gestures from self to self, those that resonate with our most intimate string: ourselves. Do we follow our inspiration in the most appropriate way ? Are we listening to our values, the engine that keeps us alive before we die ?

What about our breath, our breathing in this great agitato of a work that gets carried away ?

Breathing has become a bold word but it remains our greatest power. With each breath I can fill my whole being with life and with each exhalation I can let go of all that is no longer necessary in the hollow of my truth. Inspiration is a reconnection to my deepest aspiration.

So, if I cannot directly influence decisions or actions against my values in the world, I can choose how to live this situation. My emotions belong to me, like the tuning and handling of an instrument, no matter how good it is.

If I talk about silence, it is because music for me is a tribute to silence. Our silence. The one that opens all the doors of truth, our infinite knowledge when it is in tune with the soul of our being. This space is inaccessible from the outside.

As the artists' entrance is often behind the theatre, in secret, truth is a treasure that only reveals itself in the silent space of our heart. At the heart of the heart are all treasures and more. There is in the secret of the soul all the beauty that only invites itself secretly, away from the overly ostentatious gaze. Every moment we try to grasp it, it slips away, like Scarbo under Ravel's notes.

Truth may well take as many prisms as human beings - interpreters of life. But it remains One and Only One. We are 7 billion fixed explosives coming from the same place to go to a same place.

All the illusory divisions of this great cacophony are, in fact, only an orchestra seeking its own tonality, its own tuning fork, before attacking the very first note in unison. It is not because we each seem to go in one direction, venturing into the corners that call us, that we are incompatible with each other. Only fear can succeed in this trick. But to explore one's fears is to adjust one's instrument so that one day it will resonate to its full potential, that is to say its unique vibration, whether it is a small piccolo flute or a large double bass or even some timpani from the depths of the stars. Our singing will only be able to express itself once it has been freed from the tensions that hinder it. Before that, it is only a question of tuning and positioning.

This positioning cannot be related to anything external. It is about our own coherence with ourselves. It is no longer the time for morals conditioned by external education. The feeling of no longer knowing is already a starting point towards a more authentic, truer note. To follow one's inspiration is already to begin by hearing it without trying to grasp or freeze one's knowledge...

The soul of the world is elusive ! And yet, everywhere, in every place and at all times, life interferes like air and water make their way without ever being caught by the hands of Man.

We would like to lock our immortality elixir somewhere in a small bottle and believe that it would remain on a shelf at our disposal. We believe that we are powerful in the very place of our impotence ! And weak where everything is accessible. Because this so-called weakness is that of kneeling on the ground and relying on something bigger than ourselves, without necessarily knowing, without really understanding. Is it our unconscious ? Is it this inspiration ? Is it the vital energy of our body ? Is it our heart when it strips itself of any past emotional charge ?

Music has the vitality that it connects us to our greatness, to the place where we surpass ourselves, at least the idea of the little being we think we are. Because we are not just brains on legs. We now know that consciousness is not in the brain, just as the orchestra is not in the radio. All near-death experiences have revealed this. So, these sensations that run through us when we react to the sounds of music are also a reminder of our immensity, of a knowledge that passes through other channels than those of a studious mind.

In these times when the smugglers shave the walls with vaulted air and covered faces, our breath every second reminds us that we are much more than that and that we are all of us, the 7 billion human beings, together at this moment. Beyond a programmed cacophony, our soul resounds in unison. For finally, who on earth would not wish to live happily and in peace ? No matter the paths, the interpretations, the instruments, the intonations and the rhythms. Whether it's a baker desperate due to bankruptcy, an entrepreneur overexcited by money, a concerned housewife, a creative artist, a scientist on the lookout, an indecisive walker... We all come from the same place to go to the same place. Let's not confuse the details with the essential.

When Beethoven composes his Ode to Joy, a whole chorus (no pun intended) resounds ! Not a single woman or man. A whole world that turns each of these essences of the human soul into a great symphony with an unfolded heart. It is that each of our uniqueness is needed to form this immense work. It takes the prism of each of our gaze and our vibrations, once tuned to our own tuning fork, so that together we can play endlessly !

It is not dying that is serious but not having lived ! Not to have risked everything and to have left penniless without having realized the love that we carried like ambassadors at each of our steps.

The music brings us back to these foundations for the time between two notes, an in-between silence, or an in-between noise. Sometimes it is even beliefs about ourselves, these passages of identity like masks, that are removed and changed. Fear is only a passenger in the train of our life. It is up to us to dare to approach it, to talk to it and thus explore in a different way the journey we are offered to live once.

From our first breath to our last moan, we are pushed towards the horizon. Is it knowledge for some ? Is it commitment for others ?

No matter how, even deep in the abyss of hatred or fear, I believe that there is basically only one impulse, that of a tribute to Life. Whether it is disguised as fascination, disgust, frustration... It is only a question of prisms through which Life can make its way in every possible way. Even the most macabre ones.

What makes us great is our ability to tune ourselves, to realign ourselves as autonomous instruments according to the vibration of the moment.

Sometimes we may need to take an instrument to the instrument maker or tuner. It then allows us to sharpen and refine the mechanics. But profoundly the virtuosos that we are of our own Stradivarius, are the masters and players of these unique instruments.

Only then, once the vibration of his inspiration has been tuned, will the string be neither too taut nor too relaxed to let the air sound according to a frequency in harmony with oneself and the acoustics of the world, only then will we be able to tune ourselves together, and this is the moment when we will be able to play together.

French philosopher and writer Frédéric Lenoir spoke of "the soul of the world". I wonder then if this soul has a sound, of what scale, what tonality and in what harmony it sounds ?

Connecting to this note, my soul trembles like the few strokes of the conductor's baton just before the symphony really begins.

To all the tuning forks that we are

And in tune with the universe,

I wish us all the confidence of our greatness

In this month of November.

With love,

Hélène Tysman

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