An ice house, seen on my neighbourhood walk last week

I feel as though I am finding my home in singing, after more than 40 years of practice. Strange how the journey to one’s home can be so circuitous, so laborious, so long-winded. And then you find it, right in your own neighbourhood! Right where the journey began. Let me explain:

I mentioned in last week’s post that I had been working with primal sounds and exploring the more lively, vibrant, toddler-like energy that feels too unbridled to be “right”. Instead of fighting it, I allowed it to emerge and settled into it. And then I was able to find more stability in my sound, and thus feel less anxious about the noise I was producing. As a result, I was more able to simply “show up and sing”, or as my teacher-mentor Neil Semer likes to say: “Do The Work” (a phrase I’m sure my students are getting sick of). Rather than LOOKING for my singing home, I now just sing from it without trying to. In so doing, there’s more immediacy. I don’t strive, don’t micromanage. I just AM. Home.

I’ve built this house one block at a time, just like the ice house that illustrates this post. There was no step in this journey that was wasted: every part of it had its value, its lessons to teach. And make no mistake: this voyage will never be done. There will always be more work to do, more blocks to build. But for the moment, I am enjoying the gratifying feeling of being at home in my body and my singing practice. It all feels easier, lighter and more joyful. I’m going to just sit in that.