Don’t Press

Don’t Press

I was researching websites of other singers the other day and came across this vocal tip from Lisa Popeil. “Don’t press your vocal cords.”
Singers know this is true, but sometimes we do it anyway, unconsciously, thinking it will make the sound we want, which it never does. The voice just sounds constricted.
I began thinking about this tip as applied to life. Don’t press into life.
Don’t press more into my day. Don’t press with guilt, thinking that will motivate me to work harder, better, faster. Don’t press into shoulds of any kind, like – I should eat less, do more, be more. Because what happens is instant constriction – constriction of muscles, energy and breath. Those conditions hardly make it easier to do whatever it is we want to do, from singing to creating to working to living. Constriction of that kind restricts our ability to live the moments we have.

Quintessential non-pressing!


The question is – how can we live, work, grow, and achieve goals without pressing? Singing has taught me the value of letting go of everything unnecessary to what is essential to the moment. But my body has a habit of holding. And my mind has a habit of pressing. Now I am practicing noticing the pressing, whether mental, emotional or physical, checking to see if it’s necessary. The very act of noticing often releases some if not all of the tension. If not, I accept my habit, acknowledge my efforts, my self, and relish the moment.

Toning is Resonant Paradise

Toning is Resonant Paradise

Toning comes from the Latin word, ‘tonus,’ meaning stretched sound. Toning is sounding a note for the length of your breath, inhaling and singing again. It is not singing to perform or with any goal of doing it “right” or “well.” It is about vibrating the body down to the smallest particle. Our bodies are composed of vibrating cells. When we tone, all the disparate vibrations of those cells come into harmonic alignment. The effect is that we feel calmer, more relaxed and centered. People often say they feel happy afterwards.
When we tone one note for at least three minutes, the brain waves change, depending on what vowel you are toning. An [ah] vowel will calm you down; an [ee] vowel will energize you.
Toning anchors us to the present moment. It oxygenizes all our cells. When toning, we breathe deeper and slower, which releases stress. Because there is more oxygen in the blood, the heart doesn’t have to work as hard. Blood pressure goes down. Endorphins are released which are the body’s natural painkillers and also make us feel happy.
Try toning any note, any vowel. Stick with the first note that comes out your mouth. It’s the one your body wants at this moment. breathe and tone, breathe and tone, until you are done. Notice how you feel afterwards.
As Kik Kimball said after a Vibrant Voice class, “Toning is resonant paradise!”

bird of paradise

If you are new to toning, tell me about your experience. If you have toned before, what is it like for you? Let’s chat.

Nervous Singing The National Anthem

Nervous Singing The National Anthem

Speaking of the National Anthem, I recently sang it before my nephew, Philip’s final college baseball game. I was surprised by how nervous I got. The seniors on the team had missed graduation earlier in May because they were away playing games. This last game, Senior Day, was the stand-in for their graduation.
I have sung the National Anthem many times. I was not expecting to be nervous and I didn’t plan appropriately. I realize there were several factors I could have considered. My sisters and family were in the stands. Philip had invited and arranged for me to sing. I had to warm up in the car. And I assumed the song would be second nature to me. As my father always said – never assume!
In fact, due to unexpected allergies, I developed a sore throat, which left my voice husky and unpredictable. As I practiced behind the locker rooms, my mind blanked on the words. I had to sing earlier than I was originally told, leaving me slightly ungrounded. I felt like I couldn’t relax into my breath. Have you ever felt like that?
This experience taught me NEVER to assume I really know a song. I still need to practice – words, tricky intervals, phrasing, meaning and breath. Reinforcing mental and physical memory will calm performance anxiety. I need to get centered before performing – no matter how difficult or ease the music. I need to breathe into my body and the present moment. Then I can open the channels for sound.
My nephew and family loved having me sing. And I loved being able to add something special to the day. I also re-learned the value of revisiting the basics.

my nephew Philip pitching

Singing at The Memory Center

Singing at The Memory Center

Recently, I sang for nearly two hours at my mother’s home, The Memory Center, a residence for people with Alzheimer’s. I sing songs from their childhood and young adulthood – Sweet Betsy From Pike, I’ve Been Workin’ On the Railroad, You Are My Sunshine, Let Me Call You Sweetheart. A dozen or more residents cluster around the piano, most in wheelchairs. A wonderful pianist, named Katherine Edmonton, volunteers her time to come play with me. It’s three in the afternoon. My mother and her neighbors look sleepy, but as soon as I open my mouth, they lift their heads and start to sing. Some sing out loud. Some just move their lips. They know the words, these sweet parents who don’t even know their own children.
A well coiffed, white-haired woman came up to me afterwards and said, “I loved your singing. I hope you come back again soon.” I noticed her singing every song. I asked her what her name was. She answered with a smile, “Doris Duvall. Isn’t that a lovely name?” I agreed it was.
Every time I come and sing, I am struck by how much music helps people who are memory impaired come alive. Their eyes light up. They smile. They bob their heads with the beat. We are viscerally connected as we sing together. The present moment is sweet and healing for all of us.

Sing Today

Sing Today

If you are reading this blog, you probably allow yourself to sing somewhere, even if only in the shower. Most people don’t. There are only two mainstream places left to sing in this culture – at places of worship, singing hymns or in the choir, and at baseball games. In the seventh inning stretch, everyone sings “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” with gusto and glee. Some brave enthusiasts even sing the National Anthem before sports events, but that is out of reach for many people. Did you ever notice how people either mouth the words or sing quietly? No gusto there.
I am writing this post to encourage you to sing. Singing makes us happy. It is our human birthright. It’s part of how we communicate with each other. Singing is a bridge connecting the hemispheres of our brain. It is logical and sequential and simultaneously creative and spontaneous. It brings us into the present moment. Our body breathes deeper. Whether revving up our energy with an up-tempo tune or soothing ourselves with a lullaby, singing is our ticket home.
What are your experiences with singing? How does it make you feel?
Let’s chat.

Sing and Play at Vibrant Voice

This semester, I taught a monthly Vibrant Voice class for singing and toning. We sang rounds, spirituals and chants.

Toning with a Tibetan Singing Bowl

We toned chakras for energizing clarity. We centered in deep, diaphragmatic breath. We learned how to open the voice up and down the range. And we improvised together, creating waves of wild, soothing, beautiful sound. We had a fun, rejuvenating time singing together. Here are some comments from participants.
Eli Goodwin, “After toning, I felt both more spacious and more substantial. It made me happy.”
Alana Demers, “Our time with you was always energizing, playful and interesting. It is such a good thing to push the fences of our lives open and walk through to another field. One might be surprised to find what grows there.”
Joyce Bledsoe, “I feel more rooted and open.”
Kik Kimball, “Toning is resonant paradise!”

What are your experiences with improvising and toning?

Singing for May Day

Bill Egan and I singing with the children

On May 1, Canterbury Children’s Center had its annual May Day Celebration.  This is May Day in its Celtic finest!  I teach music at CCC.  Every year since my children attended CCC, I have been leading May Day songs and joining in the festivities.  I absolutely love it.  Founded by teachers Judy and Bill Egan, I fondly say that the Canterbury Children’s Center is the best school in the universe.  You can get some hints of that in the pictures.

On May Day, we all dress in white, make fresh eucalyptus garlands for our hair, sing May and spring songs and welcome Dudley and Jacqueline Laufman, who comprise Two Fiddles, a contradance and folk music ensemble.  Dudley recently won a National Heritage Fellowship from the NEA for his music, contra-dancing and storytelling.  The children and teachers sing, clap, stomp, swing, contra dance, retell the pagan story of May Day from Padstow, England, where Morris dance teams dance all day on May first, refuel with snack, and dance around the May Pole to welcome in the spring.

What I love about our May Day celebration is the ritual of music and dance, rituals that humans have been doing for May Day for thousands of years.  The music connects us to each other.  We clap in sync with each other.  We sing old English songs in a round, like “As I mee walkéd in a May morning, I heard a bird sing, Cuckoo,” the final cascade of cuckoos calling in the spring.  We dance in contra dance lines to a fiddle tune called “The Sweets of May,” with lyrics that Dudley wrote, finishing with the exuberant call, “…where the men dance around the ladies, and the ladies dance round the men.” Finally, we dance around the May Pole, which symbolizes the weaving of life, the changing seasons in nature and in our lives, the woven ribbons a reminder that we are all interconnected. We celebrate the wondrous web of life in song, dance, and story.

As we dance around the May Pole, we sing, “Unite and unite, now let us unite for the summer is a-comin’ today and whither we are going, we all will unite in the merry morning of May.”

May you all have a May merry with blooming creativity and song!

Swing your partner!

Songweaver Concert

April 16, 2012

Songweavers is an a cappella chorus of 130+ women, accompanied by African drums.  There are no auditions. The women just love to sing.

Yesterday afternoon, we had our annual concert, entitled “Coming Home.”  There was a coming home on many levels.  At the most obvious, I had been away from Concord Community Music School for four years.  Upon my return, I took over direction of Songweavers from the creator and only director, who retired.  I came home to my music school and my hometown.  It turns out; I really LOVE conducting a large group of eager, enthusiastic, ready-for-anything women!

In the music, we found home in heaven, heart and sanctuary.  We discovered that home is the light within each of us, a candle in the window that beckons us to return and rest in the wonder of who we are.

In the middle of the word “home” is the sacred mantra “OM.”  When I chant Om, the vibrations carry me home to the core of my being.  Sound vibrates every cell in our bodies.  The voice, especially, has the power to bring all our cells into harmonic vibration with each other.  When the Songweavers sang, their eyes alight with focus and joy, their faces telling each story, that energy filled my heart with the power of our musical connection.  We created a community of sound that vibrated singers and audience alike.  Generated by each voice resonating with all the other voices, we brought us all into harmonic resonance with each other, a place that felt uplifting, sacred and totally present.

That is home!  Singing together has the power to raise our vibration and bring us home.  The women often tell me how much they love my smile.  How could I not smile at such a gift, that they give me every week at rehearsal, that we give each other in our willingness to rise to our highest selves.  I am smiling now remembering the electricity of yesterday’s concert.

Before we began the concert, I told the women that nothing in this life is perfect, complete or permanent.  Certainly, our concert was not without mistakes, though we definitely peaked at the performance.  There is always more we could have done and now our singing year is over.  At this moment, my heart is still vibrating with the sure knowledge that I am home!

My mother has Alzheimer’s.

I am sitting at a metal table in Bay Lake Park having a picnic with my mother.  She has Alzheimer’s.  She can barely talk.  I, who use my voice to sing, teach and communicate all day, can no longer have a conversation with my mother.  She has no words.

I brought her a huge M & M cookie.  I asked her if she liked it.  She said, “I like it.”  Three words, a whole sentence and a statement of truth!  It was like I’d been handed a jewel.  Mom is perfectly content to sit silently with me, staring at the trees, the moving cars, the people walking by.  She doesn’t need words.

I am struck by how uncomfortable I am without words, without conversation, without the usual verbal give and take.  But we are having give and take of a different kind, just being together.

When I visit, I always sing for Mom and her fellow residents, songs from their era, folk and patriotic songs, anything they might remember.  When I sing, Mom smiles.  When I start “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” which was my grandfather’s favorite song, her eyes get teary.  She looks at me, really looks at me.  A connection is made.  At Christmas time, singing “Silent Night,” Mom’s lips were moving with the familiar words.

The ears are the first sensory organ to develop in the womb and the last organ to receive input when we die.  It’s why singing to babies in the womb has a proven effect and why singing to people as they die lets them know that they are not alone.  They are loved.  They hear, even in a coma.

I am sad, though, watching Mom slip closer to leaving.  I hold her hand, talk to her about what’s beautiful and sing “Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in love with you.”

When it’s time for me to leave, I hug Mom and say, “I love you.”  Usually her response is silence or a smile.  Today, she says, “I love you.”  It’s garbled, but I am glad I didn’t miss it.

Me, Mom, and my sisters, Heidi and Tricia at The Memory Center in Virginia Beach

Vibrant Voice in Hilo, Hawaii

My cousin, Tracey Lambe, and I gave a Vibrant Voice workshop Sunday, February 18 in Hilo, Hawaii, where Tracey lives. Sponsored by Balancing Monkey Yoga Studio, a lovely circle of women gathered to sing, write, open our bodies with yoga, and create our own heart mantra.
Tracey is a poet, writer and psychotherapist. We began collaborating on Vibrant Voice workshops over a decade ago as a way to see each other more often. What we discovered is that creative, improvisational writing widens the voice channel and singing, chanting, and improvising vocally amplifies the writing channel. Voice, in the largest sense, is our capacity to express ourselves in our lives – through our decisions, work, creativity, relationships, speech, and artistic endeavors. Having a fluid, open throat channel facilitates our ability to connect with our world, to speak our truth, and to ask for and receive what we need in life.
The night before the workshop, we were woken up every hour by a tropical storm of biblical proportions – searing lightening, followed by booming thunder and torrential rain. The storm was cacophonous. As Pablo Neruda said in a poem Tracey read at the workshop, “… and suddenly I saw the heavens unfastened and open.” Hawaii is a place where the elements are an impressive, daily presence.
Neruda meant that he found wisdom in writing from nothing, from “pure foolishness, pure wisdom of one who knows nothing,” that the process of expressing ourselves opens us to heaven. What I found is that being in Hawaii with its elemental intensity unfastens me from my traditional moorings and connects me to the core of the earth. In this workshop, I felt like I had come home to myself. That is heaven!

Here I am planning with Tracey while we stretch during a yoga break.

A rainbow over Tracey's house heralded a successful workshop.