My crystal singing bowls
For the last three weeks, I have been singing for a friend who is dying. On a Friday afternoon in October, I got a text saying Leslie was being transported to Hospice House. She was not expected to last the weekend. I brought my crystal singing bowls to Leslie’s room. I had played these for her the month before. Leslie loved hearing and feeling the vibrations, the waves of sound rolling through her body.
I recently bought a nest of three crystal bowls. They are made of crystal glass about 1/4″ thick with slightly concave bottoms. They come in a variety of sizes, which effects their feel and tone. My three bowls are infused with minerals. The lowest pitched bowl, the color of a yellow leaf in autumn, is infused with citrine. Citrine is for the third chakra, the solar plexus, the seat of our intentions. Citrine brings attunement and inner calm, creating balance by attracting things we need and dissipating negative energy.
The middle bowl is the color of a ripe apricot. It is called the Grandmother bowl. I played this bowl for Leslie four days in a row. It felt like the ancestors calling.
The smallest bowl is infused with gold, which turns the crystal into a shimmery aqua color. It is for the high-heart chakra, the bridge between the throat and heart, where the thymus gland regulates the immune system.
Most visits, I have been able to sing with Carolyn Parrott, the first director of Songweavers. Leslie has sung with Songweavers for more than a decade, with both Carolyn and then me. She loves the Songweaver songs. Carolyn and I each take a bowl. Sometimes another friend plays the third bowl. We play the bowls by cupping the bottom of the bowl loosely in one hand while circling the rim with a sueded mallet. The core tone of the bowl slowly emerges, followed by its overtones. The sound is other-worldly. The vibrations flow through the hand, up the arm, and through the whole body. The citrine and the Grandmother bowls harmonize hypnotically. We add the aqua aura bowl for color commentary, its high bell-like tone calling the head down to the heart.
As we play the bowls, we gradually add our voices in an improvisation. Eyes closed, we communicate by feel, with our breath and our ears, joining our energies to each other and with Leslie. Carolyn’s low alto voice creates the ground for my higher explorations. At some point, a song drops into one of our minds and we segue to words.
“Soon I will be done with the troubles of the world…”
“One bright morning, when this life is over, I’ll fly away…”
“I wanna die easy when I die…”
“Courage my soul, and let me journey on…”
“Swing low, sweet chariot, comin’ for to carry me home…”
“Amazing Grace…”
We move from one song to the next, as they appear, harmonizing, listening and following the deep pull of vibration. It feels like the clear, layered sound of the bowls creates an open window for spirit. Leslie describes her experience; “The waves of sound are very relaxing. I can feel the resonance vibrate through my whole body. It’s soothing and centering. I can feel myself expand with the sound. I receive it as a wonderful gift. The resonance and love are palpable.”
Leslie did not die that first week-end at Hospice. Her internal bleeding miraculously repaired itself and she is having a second wind. Now, she sometimes sings with us, depending on her breath, or moves her lips with the words. We began playing the bowls and singing to help Leslie, but the truth is that this sound bath, this meditation through sound is for all of us. The sound takes us to the heart of spirit, where we are connected to the whole of life.
As I hug Leslie good-bye one night, she whispers, “You give me such light.”
I whisper back, “It’s your light, reflected back through sound.” Luckily, we have more blessed days to embrace the light together.
