How is it possible that six minutes can make me happy? I've clicked on this video fifteen times so far today, and it has moved me to the brink of joy every time. It is the song One Voice performed by the Singing Sergeants, which is that portion of the Air Force for whom music sends them aloft as easily as an aircraft. 

 

It is not just the clarity of the first woman's voice, though that would be enough all by itself. She is joined by others, and the paradox of a hundred voices blending as one is not lost on me. It is the ineffable embodiment of the human connection.

 

We are many. We are one. 

 

Everyone in the choir and orchestra is wearing dress blues, with stripes on their shoulders. Five, six, or seven. The flautist had eight. Uniformity is evident in their uniforms. Unity informs their purpose.

 

Then two little girls catch the excitement, and the conductor invites them to join in. A crowd follows behind, in street clothes. They are as diverse in their appearance as the enlisted people are alike. No need for sameness. Being One does not also mean being identical. There are families. A baby in a sling. A daughter wrapped in her mother's embrace. Even a woman older than me. No such age span shows up in the military, yet they are all part of the song.

 

The words portray their solidarity to trust. To leave behind anything that would divide them.  Without knowing their names, or where they live, I am drawn in too, because it is unthinkable to stay silent. Or apart. 

 

In the end of what feels like a flight of emotion, there is that single sergeant. Serenading the whole world.