Yahoo! Songweavers Has Begun!
Each woman arrived with the energy of their day buzzing in their body. As they each came in to the community room, it was like a hive of eager energy, some clustering, but mostly each individual in its own sphere, spinning in and out of encounters with others. We began warming up by humming our names. The effect was instant. All of that disparate energy began vibrating to a common frequency. In this case, the sum is definitely greater than the parts. We became a group again, centered, taken beyond ourselves into the magic of singing together.
Songweavers is an aural tradition chorus. Everything is learned by ear. I sing each part. The women sing it back to me until it begins to stick. Fairly quickly, we are singing in four-part harmony accompanied by the drive of African drums. What’s not to love! Everyone leaves bopping and singing all the way home.
If you live in New England, come join us. If not, find a chorus or some friends and go sing. You’ll love it!
Recording Surprises
This past week, I began recording with Larksong Trio, my chamber ensemble with Calvin Herst on piano and Jennifer Yeaton-Parris on flute. We are recording a CD of cross-over folk songs – traditional American and Celtic folk songs arranged in a variety of ways, both classical and contemporary. We have played these songs for years. It never occurred to me to be nervous – until Monday’s rehearsal the day before our first session.
Despite my best intentions I could feel my whole body getting tighter and tighter, beginning with my neck and jaw, recruiting the rest of my body like the defensive line of the Patriots (my favorite football team!).
Defend, my body exhorted.
Defend against what? I asked, frustrated at this surprise attack.
Defend against vulnerability, came the reply.
Singing is inherently vulnerable, as I was viscerally reminded. Further, the mind is required for the mechanics of music making, but it can’t control the heart or the body. Heart is required for emotion, to convey something meaningful in a song, not just the right notes and words at the right time. Emotions can trigger vulnerability and its fierce protector, fear, which is what happened to me last week.
I managed two evenings of recording by rooting the lower half of my body into Mother Earth, channeling the tension from my jaw, neck and shoulders down my legs and out my body. By the third day, however, I was too husky vocally to record. We have rescheduled. I am reminded once again that control for a singer (or for life) is illusory. As one of the composers, William Fletcher, said, “I make it a practice not to fight life, if I can help it.” I am practicing love and compassion when fear and tension win the day. There’s always tomorrow.
Reclaiming My Whole Self with Peruvian Whistling Vessels
September 4, 2012
Over the course of 9 days at the Healing Sounds Intensive, I fell 3 times, spilled water on myself and dropped things. My body was being vibrated out of its old structure and into something entirely new. Unsure what, I watched the process unfold. After 6 days of toning, chanting, learning, dancing and meditating, my mind relaxed its control, allowing my body to expand where it needed. On the seventh day, we had the chance to blow Peruvian Whistling Vessels, which are pre-Colombian clay vessels from South America that look like birds. They were used in ancient times to alter states of consciousness.
Seven of these vessels, all tuned slightly differently, were blown at the same time. The effect was instantaneous. A high-pitched, native whistling sound with a multitude of harmonics completely enveloped my head. It was so loud that I could hear nothing but the all-encompassing sound. We blew the vessel for four minutes, then listened to the other groups.
When I was blowing, I felt the channel between my ears completely clean out and a funnel opened down into my head through the roof of my mouth. Afterwards, sitting in the sound of the next group, my head felt like one whole room with no furniture. The wall between my large left brain parlor (logical, linear, mind-centered) and the smaller right brain parlor (holistic, intuitive, heart-centered) had dissolved. So had all of the former furniture. It has been unified ever since. New furniture and decorations will emerge, but for now I am leaving it empty so I can revel in my whole self.
GEORGE
August 28
The second time George saw me, he said, “You are loved and encompassed by George. Something about your energy really draws me to you.”
“Thank you,” I said. At the Intensive, George found me nearly every day and said loving things to me, which were completely genuine and made me smile. One night, after our evening chant/dance/trance, I sat next to George for the closing meditation. He was a hugger, so I put my arm around him. He said, “Thank you,” and leaned his head against mine. We were both in heaven. As we breathed into the silence, I realized that George’s child-like, genuine, wise love was reflecting myself back to me. George’s energy was pure, present love.
Later, I learned that George has beginning Alzheimer’s. He also spent his life in a spiritual tradition that focuses on love and service. What he remembers now is the love. An hour of singing, dancing and reveling in sacred chant opened me up to myself and the love that is ever present.
Suite of the Self
August 21
A basic premise of using sound for healing is the fact that every part of our body is in a state of vibration. When we are healthy and happy, our bodies hum along at optimal frequencies. We are like a symphony orchestra playing the Suite of the Self.
But what happens when the first violinist loses her sheet music? The violin section begins to falter. The violas and cellos become hesitant. The double bass loses the beat. The woodwinds sigh and cry. The brass runs amok. The whole orchestra falls apart – just like the body with dis-ease.
Jonathan Goldman used this excellent analogy to ask the question, “What if we could somehow project the correct resonant frequency back to the first violinist – with our voice?” From pain to stress relief, from emotional blocks to physical illness, we can use our voice to bring ourselves back to our optimal frequency.
As an experiment, next time you are stressed (e.g. – in the airport security line!), hum quietly and lovingly to yourself. Breathe whenever you need to. Just pick a note that feels comfortable and resonant. Then hum.
When I tried this in the airports both to and from the Intensive, I felt myself immediately relax. In order to hum, my body breathed deeper. In less than a minute, my flipping-out mind dropped into my body while simultaneously shedding stress through the sound. It was heaven.
Prescription: Hum daily
– with love
– for fun and health.
Not Perfection – Love
In my notes from the Healing Sounds Intensive, I found these words, “The energy we put into music translates into something powerful – not perfection, but love.” That was the essence of the whole nine day experience.
I was one of the few musicians in attendance. It was not an advantage. I have been trained to strive for perfection with the goal to sing the right note in the right time with warm, radiant technique and expressive emotion. In a workshop using sound for healing, perfection is irrelevant. Intention is all that matters.
Jonathan Goldman said almost daily, ” Frequency plus intent equals healing.” By that he means that energy and consciousness (intent) are encoded in the sound (frequency). When we sing with perfection as the goal, we get music that is technically excellent, but not necessarily moving. When we sing with love in our hearts – for the music, our voice, the miracle of breath and sound, for ourselves and whomever is listening, then the sounds we make are truly powerful and healing.
Healing Sounds Intensive
August 8, 2012
This summer, I spent 9 days in the foothills of the Rockies toning, chanting and expanding at the Healing Sounds Intensive with Jonathan and Andi Goldman (http://www.healingsounds.com) – 9 days with 90 people, raising the roof and our own vibration through the power of our voice. I loved it!
In the next few posts, I will explore some of my key learnings from this transformative workshop. Rap this with your wildest “I’m me!” voice for a taste of my experience.
Singing sounding
Soothing grooving
Toning moaning
Tuning crooning
Dancing trancing
Drumming strumming
Laughing during
Belly slurring
Chakra mantra
Vowel power
Crystal bowls
Singing souls
Intention ascension
Multi-dimension
Angel sounds
Open bounds
Grand expansion
Graceful space
Within without
Turn inside out
Spirit divine
It’s bogeying time
Om!
My Interview about Songweavers and Voice
Check out this great video about Songweavers.
My Whole Voice
My Whole Voice
There is a tension between letting go and having enough muscular engagement to sing well, easily. There is a tension between flopping and holding, projecting and holding back, streaming the breath and controlling it, letting go and letting in – letting the breath, mind and will IN to my body, IN to my heart, so that breath and sound can scour all the dark corners of my interior caves – the land of childhood and sisters, playing school, boyfriends, all the years of holding back, parenting, love, adult children, middle age, exploring the nooks and crannies of my experience, the wonders of who I am, of who I’m afraid to be, the inner singing doubts, the certain push from my soul, all of it, without labels or judgment, just listening, looking, accepting it all, each precious moment of my precious life.
Of course, this includes embarrassment, vulnerability, misbehavior, secrets, mistakes, challenges, hard feelings, the stuff that churns and bloats, gassy and uncomfortable. In this moment, I want it all because that’s the way to my whole voice. I can’t have my whole voice without accepting and loving my whole life, the failures and celebrations, the blessings and difficult gifts, my own holding back and letting go. My whole voice acknowledges and accepts all of who I am. It’s a wondrous practice.
What Scares Me About Voice
What Scares Me About Voice
What scares me about voice is not being able to let go, let go into the chimes, like the wind, which blows where it will and hears its song sung back to it in the breezeway. I want to ring the chimes in my gut, in my ribcage and sternum. I want my throat to be like my breezeway – open and available for play, for wind, for whistling resonance, for bone-deep vibrations, for lyrical songs. I want to call to the birds with my songs and have them answer me back.
Chick-a-dee-dee-dee.
I’m here-here-here.
What scares me is what people will think, what I will think, what it will sound like. I want to be like Rumi, who said,
“I want to sing like birds,
not wondering who is listening
and what they think.”
I teach Vibrant Voice workshops to remind myself that we can all sing like that. We can all be child-like exploring our voice again. We can all be birds on the wire, on the garage peak, in the garden looking for seeds, soaring or nesting. We can all let our voices fly on the wind.