Author's Introduction


Passing The Torch

   One winter's day in 1987, while I was waiting to use the restroom at a McDonald's, an elderly woman in a wheelchair came in, and her caregiver asked me if they could go ahead of me. “Of course!” I told her. As she was escorted into the bathroom, I noticed a beautiful glow in her eyes, which reminded me of the eyes of a baby – bright blue, crystal clear, pure and precious.

    Two minutes passed slowly, and finally I heard the sweet sound of a toilet flushing. Both women came out smiling, and before I knew what was happening, the older one wheeled herself right up to me, slowly rose out of her wheelchair, kissed me on the lips and said, “Thank you. I love you.” She came into my arms and offered her frail body in a delicate and tender embrace. Her eyes blazed with life and love, and I felt a warm ripple spread throughout my chest. She sat back down and was escorted out. I also took a seat, to collect myself and to reflect on what had just happened. The woman’s eyes, her radiant spirit, and especially her innocent and courageous offering of love had me shaking. I was in delicious shock, thrown completely into a state of wonder. It seems life's best moments catch us off guard, sneaking up on us when we least expect it, and this was surely one of them.

    My mind, that endless question machine, was spinning. Who was that woman? Was she too old and senile to remember that one doesn’t go around kissing strangers on the lips, or was she too wise to allow her heart to be confined to the ways of the world? My thoughts raced with theories and questions that would never be answered. Finally, I gave up and just let it be. For the rest of the day I could not wipe a smile off my face.

    I’m happy to say that I never fully recovered from that experience. It was as if she had passed a torch on to me, igniting my desire to love boldly, to live without concern for what the neighbors might think. The torch burned a hole in my tolerance for mediocre, half-asleep self-expression. I wanted what this woman had, and I didn’t want to wait till I was that old before I was that free.

    But how would I do it? What was my way of expressing love? Images danced through my mind about what I might say and do. Would I kiss strangers on the lips and tell them I loved them? Pretty soon I realized that I couldn’t approach this business of loving with a plan of action. It had to spring up from my heart like a bubbly fountain, spontaneous and unrehearsed. All I could do was practice being a vessel for love, not its controller. From the depths of my being, I asked to learn the ways of love, and my prayer took the form of a song:


Teach Me How To Love

I want to wake up in the morn, and know what I’m made of
Oh, Great Spirit, teach me, teach me how to love
I want to hear the birds at dawn, and know what they sing of
Oh, Great Spirit, teach me, teach me how to love
I’ve learned quite well just how to hide
Behind these rusty walls inside
But now my heart is calling me to rise above
Teach me how to love

I’ve shined on just a chosen few that fit me like a glove
Oh, Great Spirit, teach me, teach me how to love
Teach me to shine on everyone just like the sun above
Oh, Great Spirit, teach me, teach me how to love
I’ve walked the earth in self-defense
Bracing for some punishment
Could it be I’m safer here?
I’ve asked a jury of my fears
I’d rather ask a dolphin or a dove
Teach me how to love

1987 © ScottSongs
                 

    The more I learn about love, the more I feel like a beginner. I am amazed to read that scientists estimate that the average human being uses 5 to 10% of their brain. I suspect that we are all beginners in matters of the heart, too.

    When I wrote the song Teach Me How To Love I was admitting I knew next to nothing about loving and being loved. I was asking sincerely to be taught. This book covers what I've learned so far.

    Part 1 is about learning to follow my heart and trust my intuition, especially in regard to my music and speaking career. It goes down easy, as good humor makes for good digestion. With levity still a constant companion, the second half goes deeper into my experiences of growth and transformation through relationships

    I started writing this in 1995, and wrote fifteen chapters that year. What took me so long to finish? I needed to live more of my life and learn more of my love lessons so I could be in integrity with what I was writing about. It was as if the book was far more wise and mature than I was. I needed to catch up with it.

    For instance, when Alan Cohen wrote the Foreword in 1996, I was uncomfortable with what he wrote about the healing I supposedly had with my mother. He wrote about it as if it was one of the most moving parts of the book. Yet at that time I had just briefly touched the surface in writing about my mother. More importantly, I had not come close to forgiveness and peace in that relationship. My Mom and I had a long ways to grow. But I took his words as a challenge, a prophetic invitation to go deeper with my Mom. Years later I had a healing with her that indeed felt like a miracle. I was then able to finish the chapter that Alan must have intuitively known was in me to write.

    One of my neighbors, Jack Kornfield, wrote a fabulous book called After the Ecstasy, the Laundry, about bringing our spiritual peaks into the often-mundane valleys of everyday life. My story starts with the laundry – or, more precisely, with nylon laundry bags and a very odd sales job. In that vocation, which was a far cry from doing what I love, I learned to bring love to what I was doing. I discovered how easy it is to make people's day, and how that can bring the ecstasy and the laundry together. It's where I first practiced passing on the torch that was handed to me years ago in McDonald's by an ageless and liberated woman unafraid of expressing her love.

    The torch is now being passed to you in the form of this book. Teach Me How To Love is meant to be caught and spread, not just read. It’s my wish that you let it ignite the flame of your passion, and that you then play it forward and pass the torch on to others in your own unique way.

If you've been sitting on your assets for a long time, the good news is that it might be hard to take this book sitting down. You might just find that it moves you up and out of whatever chair you've been in, moving you to sing, dance, write, serve, forgive, express love and celebrate life with your whole heart and soul. If you're waiting till you're perfect or even close to it, you might just put it off indefinitely. If you dare to live like you already have (and are) something wonderful to share, life will meet your daring and give you a starring role in a play.
Your play.

As one of my songs says, “Life is too short to be a spectator sport!”

I’ll see you on the stage. Let the play begin.