In the first one, I began easily. I love to play. I took my chair and placed it behind the chair of a friend, and remembered when my mother would wash the kitchen floor, and the chairs would move into the living room, and I would line them up, and make a train, or sometimes cover them with a blanket, and make a tent. Then, we were asked to make a sound. No sound came. Why?
No sound came for anyone. As the workshop has continued, we have been working with why it is so difficult for we adults to not only speak publicly, but certainly to make sounds. One man in the workshop is a musician and singer. He teaches singing, and said even in the privacy of a private session with another, a person struggles to bring themselves vocally and verbally forth.
Yesterday, we sat with our backs to another, leaning and separating and playing. We leaned forward, feeling every vertebrae separate from the other, until we were only connected at the bottom of the seat. We came slowly up and back into a vertebrae by vertebrae connection. Then, instead of being asked to generally make a sound, we were asked to make a sound like a cat. I began with a barely audible "meow". Why was that easier? I don't know, but something unleashed in all of us, and soon, beautiful sounds emerged, and we blended in an amazing harmony and grace, and sometimes, yes, some unusual sounds came out too, but all of it felt valuable in learning to unleash. Does that mean I wouldn't feel a catch right now, if you asked me to unleash a sound? Probably. I am a "work in progress," despite great intention to accept and rejoice in myself as I am.
We have shared some touching discussions in this group on why it is so hard at times to speak, or even make a sound. What holds us down? What holds us back? The agreement seemed to be that it is very personal to speak, vulnerable, revealing, and yet, don't we also reveal in our silence? Of course, we may not notice that. I like to think, "Still waters run deep," so I pass great wisdom in silence, and, yet, what is that catch in my throat at times, that fear, fear I might be dismissed from the tribe for what I say?
One woman is studying with Cicely Berry, and she recommended the book, "Your Voice and How to Use It". I downloaded it to my Kindle and I am reading it. It is important that we are able to speak, truly speak, truly convey who we are with vibration and sound.
One thing that comes up for me in this is that one woman in my book group said she didn't want to hear any of us making what she calls "old people" sounds, you know those sounds that emerge when you sit down or rise, but now, I am wondering why not. Babies babble, and then, stop. Maybe as we mature we can return to the natural sounds that emerge, announcing a change of position, a change in effort and breath. Maybe right now, you can move around and leap and make all the sounds you want, or curl up in a ball, and purr, or go baa baa, ma, ma, da, da, whatever sounds fun and important to you right now. If we can't speak and make sounds in play, how, then, do we speak to make the changes we want to see in the world? How do we break through to natural flow? We are musical instruments. The sounds we make our uniquely ours. No one has a throat like ours. No one has this mouth, tongue, torso, chest. How do we play the unique instrument we are?
Today, I say: May we each play this gift, this gift of the instrument we are.
May vibration flow through us, in harmony and influence, for this world, this precious world, of which we are a part, and which we share.