Did you try the exercise for finding your voice through singing? If you haven’t had a chance to do that yet, I hope you’ll be sure to give it a go.

This time, let’s try expressing music or rhythm through drawing. I usually play this game with young children, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, too. It’s also good to try it as a game for the whole family.

First, prepare two or three songs that each have a different and unique feel to them. For example, you could pick a sweet serenade ballad, an exciting dance song with a strong beat, or a dramatic orchestral piece. Find some colorful crayons, colored pencils, or markers, and prepare some large, blank paper.

Play your music selections one after the other. First, relax your body and mind, and listen to the music comfortably. It’s also good to close your eyes and feel the music with your whole body.

Now, play the songs again from the beginning. This time, as you listen to the music, choose a crayon or colored pencil in a color that appeals to you and draw the music or rhythm that you feel on the paper. Let your hand move freely and let your mind move freely, expressing the music through your drawing as if you are performing dahnmu, energy dancing.

Finally, sing your favorite song as you express that song as a drawing. It’s fine to hum the tune instead of singing the lyrics. The important thing is to be deeply absorbed in the song and transfer the feeling of the song into a visual image.

Although it’s a very simple exercise, try it for yourself and you’ll be amazed at how much of a sense of freedom and release you feel from this simple game.

Let’s take this opportunity to remind ourselves that the essence of art and creation involves revealing and expressing the life inside of you naturally, without embarrassment or fear, as you feel a deep connection, a sense of oneness with yourself.

If you would like to share your music drawing with Ilchi.com visitors, please scan it and send the image file to community@ilchi.com.

Choose a song that you like, and try singing it from your heart, with emotion. Let yourself become completely immersed in the song and sing it many times; try repeating your song for at least an hour. If you can’t really think of any song in particular, add some rhythm to vowels like “ah” or “ooh” and stretch them out in sound.

Instead of trying to make your voice sound louder or sing notes that are too high right from the beginning, start singing notes in a comfortable range with a lower voice. Rather than produce a sound that comes from your throat, try to pull energy up from your core to make a sound that reverberates through your entire body. In order to do that, your body and mind must be comfortably relaxed. From this state, if you focus completely on your body and your senses as you commit yourself to producing sound, it will reverberate from your dahnjon in your lower belly and your whole body will resonate.

At this time, it’s important to put your emotions into your singing. Try to feel the song imbued with your emotion as you sing, and the tone and sensations of your voice, deeply and sensitively. You’ll gradually become more comfortable with singing and feel a sense of oneness with it.

Don’t worry about the rhythm or getting every note right. In fact, rather than trying too hard to sing well, trust your senses and your rhythm, and just sing. The song becomes magnificent and delicious when it’s infused with ki energy. Leave ki energy left out of the sound, and it becomes lackluster—just as food needs to have the right amount of seasoning to be delicious.

When you sing a song you’re not familiar with, especially if you have to sing in front of other people, it’s not uncommon to feel embarrassed or awkward. But when you’re breathing, you don’t feel any embarrassment or awkwardness. While every individual’s breathing has a unique sound and rhythm, your breathing feels so comfortable because it has already become yours.

If you sing the same song for over an hour, your own unique voice starts to come through. You come to feel a perfect oneness between you and the lyrics of the song and its rhythm. Then singing feels as comfortable and easy as breathing. As you focus and sing like this, there comes a moment in which you’re amazed, thinking, I didn’t realize my voice was so wonderful. You may even find yourself in tears because you’re so deeply moved by your own voice and vibrations.

When you find your voice through singing, it naturally permeates your words and actions. In the process of finding your voice, you can find a new feeling of self-worth, as well as the desire, will, and passion to express and realize it.

I hope you make sure to spend about an hour singing this way. I sincerely hope that you don’t miss the immense joy of finding your voice.

As a young child, I had a weak body and I was also very shy. I couldn’t imagine singing or dancing in front of people. I struggled throughout my years as a teenager, asking “Why?” to myself and the world. Everything was so unfamiliar, and try as I might, I couldn’t get used to it; sometimes I would look up at the sky in desperation, and shout, “Who put me in this world without my permission?”

After I awakened to Chunjikiun and Chunjimaum through my enlightenment, everything became different. The world that had previously been so unfamiliar came closer to me and I melted into it. My body, which had made me feel uncomfortable and confined, almost as though I’d been caged in some sort of prison, suddenly felt very comfortable. As soon as I felt completely one with myself, a slew of creative senses, along with ideas and inspiration, began to arise from within me like exploding fireworks. I came to sing and dance, play the flute and drums, and write calligraphy and poetry.

Through this process, I realized that expressing yourself when you’re feeling complete oneness with yourself is the essential nature of art and creation. Within that sense of oneness, you’re able to focus completely on yourself, and the life inside of you blooms fully with a distinct rhythm. When you express that rhythm of life confidently, without fear or shame or any criticism, all of it becomes art.

The important thing is to find your own rhythm and to keep expressing it. Amidst the process of expressing yourself in this way, you develop a deeper affinity with yourself, and your focus is intensified. If you only imitate other peoples’ rhythms rather than finding your own, you may do a brilliant job of copying, but it won’t be real creation.

Over the next few posts, I hope to discuss principles and ways to find your rhythm and express yourself. I may ask you to sing or dance, or even write poetry—I might ask you to do many things. I hope that you set aside all your worries and anxieties and let yourself play. Have fun, and enjoy the process. If you don’t feel a sense of joy and satisfaction, you can’t be fully engaged, and a sense of awkwardness interferes with your self-expression. If you’re feeling awkward, it’s only natural for those who are watching to feel awkward as well.

In the next post, I’ll discuss the subject of how to find your voice through singing. Are you ready?

Many people are unable to separate their emotions from their selves, and they live as though they are attendants escorting their emotions about. But emotions are only like guests who will eventually leave, guests who are constantly coming and going. That’s why you shouldn’t try to find true happiness in your emotions.

Because emotions are like waves, they will move in whichever direction the water ripples; how would anyone be able to hold onto those emotions? Try as you might, it’s impossible to surround your life only with positive emotions. This is something that even no hero, no matter how high in your esteem, could possibly do.

Inside of you is a brilliant diamond that is covered up by the emotions and selfish desires of your ego. You have to discover that true mind, so that instead of being enslaved by your emotions and selfish desires, you can have mastery over them.

People who have ever been stuck in an awful emotion and unable to find their way out will know—while you’re there inside of that emotion, you can’t hear or see clearly. You don’t realize that you let yourself be tied down by something so small until you come out of that emotion and look back at it. It’s as though your eyes were covered by a leaf that had fallen in the wind; it’s as though that one leaf had blocked your entire world.

When you’re caught up in an emotion, it doesn’t help very much to try to analyze it. It’s also unwise to attempt to wrestle with the emotion all night and defeat it with your thoughts. At times like that, it’s a good idea to move your body. Walking around the house, going hiking, or running or exercising until you break a sweat, for example, or quieting your mind with meditation or deep breathing is effective.

When you’re sure about the purpose of your life, and when you have a great spirit that sustains it, the chances of getting stuck in emotions are reduced. Nobody escapes being pestered by all sorts of thoughts or emotions that wear you down. In a way, they’re also proof that we’re alive, that we exist. But very big dilemmas have a way of making smaller ones disappear. When you have a greater, nobler spirit, it’s easier to conquer petty emotions.

A great round tree with sturdy roots accepts the rain when it falls, the wind when it blows, and the snow when it’s snowing—it takes them as they come. At times, the leaves of that tree may be injured by bugs or its branches may break in a fierce storm. But because the tree has its strong roots, when the time comes, lovely flowers will bloom and delectable fruit will grow.

What is the big thing in your life that wins over the small things? What is equivalent to the roots that holds up your life? It’s worth giving some careful thought.

The various trials and tribulations, and the emotions that you feel in life, are like clouds—they only look substantial and with time, they eventually change and disappear. But there seem to be a lot of people who grasp their hardships and emotions tightly and kick their feet as they moan, “It’s hard, it’s so hard.” Under such circumstances, it’s only natural for the clouds to stay around longer. Clouds will thicken anyway, wind will blow, rain will pour, and snow will fall. In the midst of all that, trees grow, flowers bloom and wither, and fruit grow. If you know this principle, you can allow the joys, anger, sorrow, and pleasures of life to flow by with serenity; but many people waste all their time clutching clouds that float by.

Many wise men and women have come and gone through this world. They had to go through rainy days, too. But they took it in stride and stayed magnanimous. “Well, it’s raining. When the rain stops, all the greenery will flourish.” “The flowers are blooming. When these flowers wither, new leaves should be growing again.” Because they know that’s the way life is, even when storms roll through their lives, they can laugh out loud.

People tend to get swept up in the turbulence of their emotions and flounder through life, but those who have the wisdom to see the true nature of emotions sit in the depths of the ocean and watch the waves washing across their lives. This is called “yongshim,” or “investing the mind.”

Here, it’s important to distinguish between “emotions” and “mind”—or “heart.” You need to recognize that, even without getting on the proverbial emotional rollercoaster, you can still care deeply about something, give it your “mind.” It’s common for people to say their heart is sad, happy, or lonely. However, this is a kind of heart, or “mind,” that may be different from what you think. These are only emotions; they’re like waves on the ocean of mind. Although waves are in fact part of the ocean, they are not the ocean itself.

When you’re feeling bad, good, sad, lonely, all these things sum up to no more than shadows reflected in the mirror of mind. Without mind, we wouldn’t be able to feel anything at all. It’s the same as the principle that, no matter what beautiful film you may have, even with an excellent video projector, you can’t watch the movie without a screen.

Someone who went to a movie theater for the first time in their life could think that there are mountains and oceans and people living inside of the screen and be amazed. It’s only after they touch the screen that they realize that the objects in the images aren’t “real,” but a projection of light. But even for people who watch movies all the time, when they’re immersed in the movie, it’s natural to think of the movie in the screen as reality.

Our lives are the same. People who spend their time completely immersed only in their own thoughts and emotions don’t think of it as basically being another movie.

If mind is a mirror, then various thoughts and emotions are like shadows reflected in the mirror, or dust covering its surface. So, there’s no need to cling to things, joyful or sad. When you lie down at the end of your day, if there was anything that upset you, try thinking of it this way: “I got to see an interesting movie today.”

In the same way that the screen doesn’t vanish just because the movie is over, there is something that remains unchanging even in the thicket of all the emotions that come and go. There is a certain being that watches the nervousness, the joy, the loneliness and sadness—this is precisely the true self and the mind. Only those people who find this true mind can exercise yongshim, or “using the mind.”