My practice in the last week or two has very much been focused on this principle, embodied in the book by the same name by Byron Katie. I’ve been sitting more deeply in who I am: as a human, as a musician, as a singer, and just owning it. I’ve been beginning each practice session, as encouraged by my friend, colleague and fellow quester Anna Ronai, with a five-minute meditation to form an intention for my practice, but also to check in with where I am right now and being “right there in the present” with whatever that is. It’s been pretty revolutionary. Here’s why…
I have previously not often thought about what my intention for any given period of practice will be. I have also not (ever?) entertained the idea of gratitude for my instrument (this was an Anna Ronai suggestion, after she mentioned that she “gave thanks” for her instrument, the piano), and this was something I tried out in one session this past week. It was profound. I began to cry the moment I put my hands on my throat and said the words “I am grateful for my instrument: my larynx, my vocal folds, my throat, my diaphragm, my lungs…”. I realized that I had never once given thanks for the body that produces my sound. In fact, quite the contrary; my usual habit would be to berate myself and find myself lacking. I even feel ashamed to write these words, but they’re true. How often I wished that I had someone else’s instrument, something other than the one I was given. How often I have degraded my own gifts!
I realize now that this kind of deep work of knowing myself is ongoing and forever, not unlike the work of dismantling systemic racism or working on honesty and clarity in personal relationships. But I believe that this is essential work for those of us who truly wish to sing with an honest, connected voice which is invested in conveying meaning.