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LET’S HEAR THE GOOD, THE TRUE, AND THE BEAUTIFUL

I teach singing and speaking. I support people to have their voice in this life. There are no auditions or requirements to be in my studio. If you have a voice you’re welcome. Sometimes students have told me they wondered why another student they thought sounded “bad” was even trying. A few weeks, months, or years later, they heard that person singing and were in awe of the transformation.

Perhaps the gift that matters most in voice teachers is they don’t need weeks, months, or years to hear the beauty in a voice. They perceive it in the first sound a student makes. And perhaps the gift that matters most in human beings is the ability to perceive the radiance in others, to hear some note of goodness even when behavior is insane or inhumane.

Witnessing that radiance is not an automatic grace for me. I have a fierce judge archetype in the structure of my personality, and when I hear racism, bigotry or hatred of any kind being expressed I’m far more likely to feel defensive or critical. It’s a gritty practice to listen for the deeper truths that people believe in. I credit any success I might have to the sensitivity and depth the art of singing asks of us.

As we learn to hear the multiple frequencies in a voice, we can discern all kinds of information about a person’s state of being and intentions. I frequently give the example of the way people say “Hello” when answering the phone. We immediately get a sense of whether they feel happy and engaging, hurried and intense, or any other states of being they might be in.

I think that “singer’s sense” is the reason I wasn’t afraid when a man tried to mug me. I say he tried because I had no money. I was out for a walk and had only my apartment key on me. As he searched my pockets I apologized for having nothing to give him and asked if he’d like to come wait outside my building so I could go upstairs and get some money for him. He told me to get the f**k out of there. “Okay,” I said, “God bless you.” Even though his language was gruff it didn’t occur to me he might actually hurt me. No such intention was in his voice.

Even so, a young man outside the underpass convinced me to tell the police what had happened, and they took me to the precinct to look at mug shots. There were several fat binders crowded with photos. After a while I began weeping. The detective who’d found it hard to believe I’d apologized and blessed my “mugger” said, “Ah – it’s finally gettin’ to ya.”

I told him it wasn’t the mugging. It was all those beautiful men. They were once someone’s baby, as perfect and precious as any ever born. What had happened? They didn’t look like criminals to me. They looked like sons, like brothers, like fathers.

The day I met that man in the underpass I was blessed with the miracle of not being afraid of him. Nor was I afraid of him when I saw him three days later picking through garbage for something to eat. I can still see him perfectly when I close my eyes, and my heart still aches for his circumstances.

It’s time to celebrate the returning light, longer days, and the birthing of things. Whether it’s one of the major religious holy days or just a good old solstice ritual, we might sing or dance or tell stories of miracles. A song that tugs at me this year as I consider the humanitarian crises in our world is “Good King Wenceslas.” Perhaps we’ll share our tables and try to give in ways that tell others we cherish them. Perhaps we’ll also set a place for someone who needs us to perceive his goodness so he can grow into it. Perhaps as we share our hearts and homes, our guests will help us grow into our own goodness.

I’d love, more than I can say, to hear your stories of our innate humanity triumphing over our fears and beliefs. These stories are medicine for our sore hearts and baffled minds. Please share them with someone in these holy days. They are expressions of the miracles that may live through each and every one of us.

WE NEED YOUR VOICE

An awful lot of people who think they don’t have a good voice love to sing. They would like to come to class and develop their voice, to share their heart and soul through a song that says something in a way everyday conversation never could. They would like to feel the physical energy and joy of creative spirit flowing from self to others through singing. However, they hold back because it seems pointless if they don’t have some special gift.

I look at it another way. Whenever I see Olympic athletes receiving gold medals I think it belongs to all the children they ever competed and played with, to all their peers along the way, to parents, teachers and coaches, to researchers and the evolution of the sport itself. Everyone and everything that inspired or supported those athletes went into winning those medals.

When someone with extreme hearing loss comes to class and learns to sing by feeling the sound, we all begin to feel the sound of our own and others’ voices in our bodies. We listen and sing in ways we had never imagined possible. It works this way when people are recovering from throat surgery or a stroke. And it works when someone sings with complete ease and abandon, when their voice soars with the beauty of an angel. We all learn something extraordinary we could not have found in isolation or ordinary dialogue.

If we don’t use our voices to capacity, we diminish not only our own greatness. The ones who rise to fame to be the focal voice of our generation, or culture or religion will also be impoverished. Cultures, religions or regimes that repress their citizens’ voices are impoverished. We need people’s voices and creativity. We need their artistic expressions of curiosity and wonder, of courage and love.

When heart and truth are in the voice it is always beautiful. So if you love to sing, go ahead and take that class. Risk growing into your wholeness and supporting others to live into theirs. Or if you love to write, or paint, or cook or bowl, then go do that. Whatever it is you long to do, assume it is yours to do, not because you are meant to earn money or recognition, but because you need it in order to be whole. And as you are becoming whole you help the rest of us to do the same.