Ayla Nereo's "Beacon" is a luminous artistic invocation that positions humans as bearers of light and song in times of darkness. Through richly layered lyrics and embodied choreography, the work articulates a vision of collective awakening—what Nereo frames as "the great turning"—in which individuals function as rooted, radiant witnesses who bring voice, presence, and creative resistance to shadow. The piece weaves together themes of ecological witness (the "shining forest"), steadfast grounding, and the transformative power of song as both testimony and remedy.
What does it mean to be a beacon in times of darkness?
At its core, "Beacon" reframes the role of the individual within collective struggle. Rather than positioning light as distant or transcendent, Nereo's work argues that being a beacon requires presence rooted in the material world—"rooted deep, standing strong." The song opens with "Say what you will / the great turning has come," a phrase that anchors the work in a specific moment of historical reckoning. The "great turning" invokes the concept popularized by ecologist and Buddhist activist Joanna Macy, referring to a fundamental shift in human consciousness and relationship to the living world.
The beacon, in Nereo's vision, is not a solitary figure but a distributed network: "we the shining forest." This metaphor collapses the distinction between individual and collective, between nature and human consciousness. A forest is simultaneously many trees and one system; similarly, each person who embodies light and song becomes part of a larger luminous whole. The beacon's work is not to escape darkness but to "to the darkness bring beacons"—to move directly toward what is difficult, unilluminated, or neglected, and to stand witness there.
How does rootedness enable creative resistance?
One of the strongest currents running through "Beacon" is the insistence on rootedness as a precondition for luminosity. Trees, the implicit model, are bright precisely because they are grounded. This stands against romanticized versions of spiritual awakening that emphasize transcendence or escape. Nereo's lyric "rooted deep, standing strong" suggests that resilience and radiance emerge from anchoring—from establishing firm foundations in place, in body, in community, in the earth itself.
This rootedness becomes the source of creative power. Song, in the work's logic, is not a flight from the material but an offering *to* it: "to the darkness bring song." Song is action. It is the specific labor of those who work with voice, with rhythm, with the capacity to move hearts and kindle recognition. Nereo's own practice—as a singer-songwriter, movement artist, and initiator of courses like "Meeting the Muse" and "Empowered Voice"—embodied this philosophy. By teaching others to unlock and claim their voices, she extends the beacon's work: each person who learns to sing, to speak, to be heard becomes another point of light.
What is the relationship between darkness and light in this framework?
Rather than presenting darkness and light as opposites locked in battle, "Beacon" posits them as relational. The shining forest belongs "to the darkness"—not as victim or enemy, but as intentional presence. This echoes both Buddhist understanding of non-duality and ecological science, which shows that forests thrive in relationship to soil, to decomposition, to shadow and complexity. Light does not obliterate darkness; it illuminates it, makes it visible, transforms the relational field.
This has particular urgency in an era of ecological crisis, political fragmentation, and collective grief. The song's invocation of "the great turning" acknowledges that we are living through a threshold moment. The work it calls for is not optimism, but witness-bearing. Not escape, but presence. Not the erasure of difficulty, but the commitment to kindle light and voice precisely where they are most needed and most difficult to sustain.
What role does embodied presence play in the work?
The official music video for "Beacon," directed by Patrick and Pearl Hagan with cinematography by Andy Hoffman and Matthew Psyllos, is far more than an illustration of the lyrics. The choreography—created by Nereo herself—and the ensemble of dancers (Jin Kim, Carō Garofalo, Andrew Cauilan, Alexandra Crow, Sofie Lynn, Janine Cayla Trinidad, Feliciano Ortiz, and Corey Baker) embody the concept of the shining forest made human. The video's visual language—involving drone cinematography, color work, and visual effects—creates an aesthetic experience that mirrors the song's content: many lights, many movements, unified presence.
This embodied dimension is crucial. "Beacon" is not merely a metaphor or philosophical statement; it is a call to action rooted in the body. Movement, music, voice, and presence are the tools through which one becomes a beacon. This aligns with Nereo's broader teaching work in voice empowerment, which operates from the premise that creative expression—singing, speaking, moving—is not separate from spiritual practice or social engagement. It is integral to it.
How does song function as medicine or witness in the face of darkness?
Throughout various wisdom traditions, song has been understood as a bridge between the visible and invisible, the personal and collective, the wounded and the healed. In "Beacon," song is positioned as an offering, a medicine, and a form of testimony. To "bring song to the darkness" is to assert that even in difficulty—perhaps especially in difficulty—beauty, coherence, and resonance are not only possible but necessary.
This echoes the role of sacred song and kirtan in Hindu and Buddhist practices, where chanting is understood not as entertainment or decoration but as a practice that harmonizes the nervous system, opens the heart, and attunes consciousness to greater wholeness. By bringing song to darkness, Nereo suggests, we do not erase the darkness. We shift the frequencies present within it. We remind all who hear that light and darkness are not locked in stasis; they are in constant relationship, and consciousness—expressed through voice and presence—can modulate that relationship.
What does "the great turning" refer to, and why does it matter?
The opening line—"Say what you will / the great turning has come"—stakes the song in a specific historical and spiritual moment. The phrase "great turning," as articulated by environmental activist and Buddhist teacher Joanna Macy, refers to a fundamental shift in human consciousness and action in response to the ecological crisis. It describes a transition from a growth-based, extractive relationship with the living world to one rooted in reverence, reciprocity, and regeneration.
The invocation of this turning in "Beacon" suggests that the work of being a beacon is not optional or decorative—it is urgent and necessary. We are at a threshold. What each person chooses to illumine, to voice, to witness will shape what becomes possible. The song calls listeners not to despair or denial, but to active, rooted, radiant presence.
Where to go from here
Those drawn to the vision articulated in "Beacon" might explore several pathways forward. Ayla Nereo's "Meeting the Muse: A Free 5-Day Journey" offers a structured entry point into voice activation and creative unlocking. For deeper engagement, her "Empowered Voice" course extends this work, teaching the philosophy and practice of reclaiming voice as a form of presence and agency.
Practically, the call of the beacon is immediate: Where in your own life can you bring more light, more presence, more voice? What roots you most deeply, and how can that rootedness become a foundation for creative offering? How might you join the "shining forest"—connecting with others who are committed to illuminating darkness through song, presence, and witness? The beacon burns brightest when it is part of a network of light.
