You are more than your past

Finding Freedom Beyond Your Story My name is John Philibert, and I want to share something deeply personal with you today. For decades, I lived trapped in the shadows of my past. From ages two to twelve, my sister and I endured abuse that no child should ever experience. I won't detail those painful years, but I will tell you this: throughout my life, I felt the emotions of others as if they were my own. Every touch, every interaction left me overwhelmed with sensations I couldn't understand. It wasn't until much later in life that I discovered why – I have mirror-touch synesthesia, a neurological condition where witnessing someone else being touched triggers the sensation of being touched in the same way. Suddenly, so many puzzling experiences made sense. When I touch someone, I feel like someone is touching me. Music takes on colors and shapes in my mind. Words sometimes appear backward, like reflections in a mirror. For years, I mistook these sensations as ghosts of my past reaching out to haunt me. I wasted precious time drowning in depression over circumstances I couldn't change. But today, I'm here to tell you something I wish someone had told me years ago: You are more than your past. The Weight of Yesterday Many of us carry our histories like heavy backpacks we can never remove. We believe our worth is determined by what happened to us or by mistakes we've made. This burden affects everything – our relationships, our creative expression, even our ability to enjoy music and art.

When trauma remains unprocessed, it doesn't stay confined to memory. It lives in our bodies, influencing how we move through the world. For musicians and artists especially, this can manifest as creative blocks, performance anxiety, or difficulty connecting emotionally with your craft. I've seen countless talented students walk through my door carrying invisible weights: The pianist who tenses up during performances because of childhood criticism The songwriter who censors their authentic voice due to past rejection The guitarist whose fingers freeze when attempting challenging passages, echoing old feelings of inadequacy Your relationship with music often mirrors your relationship with yourself. When you're trapped in past narratives, your creative expression suffers. The Mirror Effect My experience with mirror-touch synesthesia taught me something profound about human connection. We're all reflections of each other in some way, absorbing and responding to the energy around us. In music, this mirror effect is particularly powerful. When you play for others, you're not just producing sound – you're creating an emotional experience that resonates differently with each listener. But if you're consumed by past hurts, that resonance becomes clouded. Consider this: when you listen to a piece of music that moves you deeply, you're experiencing a form of emotional mirroring. The composer translated their feelings into notes, and now those same feelings stir within you. This beautiful exchange can only happen fully when both parties – creator and receiver – are present, not lost in old stories. For years, I couldn't fully experience this exchange. The echoes of my past drowned out the music of my present. Perhaps you've felt something similar. Breaking the Pattern The turning point in my journey came when I realized that understanding my condition didn't automatically free me from its effects. True liberation required deliberate action and practice. Here's what helped me move forward: 1. Name Your Narrative The stories we tell ourselves about our past shape our present reality. Take a moment to consider: What's the narrative you've been living by? Is it "I'm damaged goods because of what happened to me"? Or "I'll never be good enough because I failed before"? Simply bringing these underlying beliefs into conscious awareness begins to loosen their grip. Write them down. Speak them aloud. Recognize them as stories, not absolute truths. 2. Separate Identity from Experience Your experiences are things that happened to you – they are not who you are. This distinction is crucial.

Try this exercise: On one side of a paper, list events from your past that still affect you. On the opposite side, write down qualities that make you who you are today – your values, strengths, and passions. See how the two lists exist separately, even as they inform each other. For me, understanding that my synesthesia was part of my neurological makeup – not a haunting from my past – was liberating. It allowed me to explore this sensory experience with curiosity rather than fear. 3. Find Expression Through Art Music has always been my salvation. When words failed me, melodies spoke. When memories overwhelmed me, rhythm provided structure and safety. Whatever art form resonates with you – whether it's playing an instrument, singing, dancing, or creating visual art – use it as a channel for processing emotions that might otherwise remain stuck. Start simple: Choose a piece of music that evokes a specific feeling connected to your past. Play it, listen to it, move to it. Then create something new inspired by that feeling – not to dwell in it, but to transform it. 4. Practice Present-Moment Awareness When we're anchored in the past, we miss the richness of now. Developing mindfulness skills helps bring you back to the present moment, where healing happens. A simple practice: During music practice or performance, notice when your mind drifts to past criticisms or worries. Gently return your awareness to the physical sensations of playing – fingers on strings, breath support, the vibration of sound. This present-moment focus gradually weakens the pull of the past. The Music Beyond the Noise Over time, as I practiced these techniques, something remarkable happened. The overwhelming sensations I experienced through my synesthesia transformed from burdens into gifts. I could channel this heightened sensitivity into my music, creating more nuanced and emotionally resonant performances. The past didn't disappear – it never does completely. But it no longer controlled the melody of my life. Instead, it became just one theme in a much larger composition.

Think about your favorite piece of music. It likely contains dissonance and resolution, tension and release, moments of darkness and light. All these elements work together to create something beautiful. Your life story works the same way. A New Composition Today, I still feel others' emotions and physical sensations in ways most people don't. But now I understand that this sensitivity allows me to connect with my students in unique ways. I can sense their frustration when a passage isn't working, feel their triumph when they breakthrough. What once seemed like a curse has become one of my greatest teaching assets. Your past has shaped you, certainly. It has influenced your perspective, your sensitivities, your strengths and challenges. But it doesn't define your worth or limit your potential. You are more than what happened to you. You are more than the mistakes you've made. You are more than the opportunities you missed. You are more than the words others used to describe you. You are a continuous composition, always evolving, always capable of creating new motifs and themes. The next time old recordings of self-doubt or pain start playing in your mind, remember this: You have the power to adjust the volume. You can acknowledge those tracks without letting them drown out the music you're making today. You made it here today. You're doing great. This is my story. I hope it reminds you — you are more than your past. You are the music still waiting to be played.