Monday, June 4, 2012

Another GIANT FEAR Suffocated through Action

A Dale Chihuly at Corning Museum of Glass

This past weekend I did something that even just a year ago I could not have imagined myself doing. It was something that I had decided I would just "let go of," as if our deepest heart's desires can just be laid aside and forgotten.

From the time I was very small, I only wanted to do two things -- dance and sing.

For some reason, I could and would gladly dance for anyone anywhere any time.

For some other reason, I decided that singing had to be protected, made into a secret, done in private, never revealed.

And thus, I closed down my own voice.  I would sing but only for myself, only in very specific circumstances, and soon those circumstances became fewer and fewer.

It was not long before I simply no longer sang.  (When I think about this, I completely stopped dancing shortly after this.  They have always been twins for me.)

Then I started to do Kundalini yoga and a large component of Kundalini is chant.

Thank God.

I would only chant if I were by myself, if Marcy were not home.  Then I started chanting a wee bit if she was in the house.

Then I went to my yoga dance teacher training and met someone more afraid of her voice than I was.  I helped her by being loud, by letting myself be heard.

But I still could not imagine ever leading chant or teaching other people.

Up until now, the Kundalini yoga I have been teaching did not include much vocalization at all.  It was rare.  Then a little while ago, after opening my own studio, I started doing the class conclusion chant of Sat Nam.

And after that, I started getting women to YELL, but yelling is not as naked, actually, as chanting.

And that was it.

Until this Sunday.

When I realized that to be brave for my students was the thing that gives me the greatest courage.  When I found myself telling them that I would DO or LEARN ANYTHING for them if they needed me to.

And I did.

I stood up there making crazy ass sounds.  Being loud.  Helping them to be loud.

And then I did the hardest, most magical thing of all: I stood up there and chanted for them so that they might chant.

One of the students remarked after the workshop, that it sounded and felt like we were all sitting around a giant singing bowl that was resonating with our sound in the center of the studio and sending it back at us in waves.


When I started helping women to yell and started to see the results of that, I learned something about my purpose on this planet and now after this chant experience, I know this something FOR ABSOLUTE CERTAIN:

I had to lose my own voice so that I had to work to get it back so that I might help other women do the very same thing.