The profound truth behind Alanis Morisette’s “Ablaze.”

There’s a song Alanis Morissette sings to her children on her album Such Pretty Forks In The Road that gets me every time. The song is called Ablaze. She’s telling the oldest story known to humanity, and it starts like this:

First thing that you’ll notice is some separation from each other. Yes, it’s a lie, we’ve been believing since time in memorial. There was an apple, there was a snake, there was division. There was a split, there was a conflict in the fabric of life.

Our story begins as most good stories do. We are born and thrown into a bizarre adventure called life. And it starts with a severed connection from our mothers. Then, we shift from being one thing to appearing to be two, and the baby cries.

One became two, and then everyone was out for themselves. Everyone was pitted against each other, conflict ruled the realm. All our devotions and temperaments are pulled from different wells. We seem to easily forget we are made of the same cells.

In this world, we discover things are not okay. There are jealousies, envy and hatred. This idea of separation creates conflict. People want both themselves and their people to win at the expense of others. Memories of being one are all but forgotten.

To my boy, all that energy, so wild. Love your hues and your blues in equal measure. Your comings and your goings-away. My mission is to keep the light in your eyes ablaze.

But, there’s someone who doesn’t forget — she can never forget — the boy’s mother. She knew him before he knew himself. She’s connected to a creative process that’s existed from time immemorial. She knew his personality before he was born and has been fighting to keep it and him alive since the day she learned of his arrival.

Second thing you’ll notice is that. Often we think that there’s not enough. It might feel dark. It might feel lonely and you’ll wonder why you’re here. You may be overcome with darkness and a sense of hopelessness. But it won’t matter if you keep the core connected to the oneness.

But Mom knows better than anyone the weight of loneliness and depression that creeps in after the physical separation of birth into this world. The darkness creeps in. But she’s also learned a deep and hard-earned wisdom: there’s something that connects mothers and children, not bound by physical space.

To my girl, all your innocence and fire. When you reach out, I am here hell or high water. This nest is never going away. My mission is to keep the light in your eyes ablaze.

Alanis, and mothers like her, know something at an experiential level that most men can only imagine. There’s something in this universe that supports and gives life — and she is that. It’s not just that she’s connected to that source. She is that Source. She’s both part of the process and the Process. As such, her mission is to keep the light alive.

And this cord is unbreakable. This pilot light is there in your pocket. And this bond, beyond unshakeable. Even if we all forgot all at the same time. If we forget at the same time.

The unbreakable cord that connects us all is our souls (which some call our consciousness). Souls cannot be broken or damaged like our bodies or our minds, although trauma can make it tough for the light to shine through. Our souls exist on an ocean of awareness, right in our pockets, there to rest into whenever we need them. But we forget they are there — and we come to identify with the pocket and the worn-out jeans. And as a result, we fall into the delusion that we are our bodies and the labels we carry around.

To my boy, my precious, gentle warrior. To your sweetness and your strength in exploring. May this bond stay with you through all your days. My mission is to keep the light in your eyes ablaze.

It can be hard living as a soul in a material world. Souls are curious (they want to find their way home). Souls feel connected to other souls outside their tribe. When souls awaken to their true nature, they become aware of the pain and suffering of those around them who’ve all forgotten “at the same time.” It can be hard not to succumb to the darkness and retreat from your heart into your head.

To my girls, all your innocence and fire. When you reach out, I am here hell or high water. This nest is never going away. My mission is to keep the light in your eyes ablaze.

First thing that you’ll notice

Is that everything is temporary

(To my girl) next thing you might notice Is that we will always be a family

(To my boy) my mission is to keep the light in your eyes ablaze

Alanis finishes this deeply beautiful and profound song with a memento mori. Life is fleeting. Our lives are but a droplet of water falling from the crest of a wave. We will always be family because our souls — those lights of awareness we carry around in our pockets — are all connected to the One.