Betweenness has been a persistent theme in my teaching in the past week as we returned to classes. We’ve reflected frequently on the quality of the “space between” the phases of the breath: the moment where we are simply open, waiting to receive the air; the moment when we inhale; the moment where we sense the body summoning support; and the moment we exhale. Between each of these actions or states of being is a liminal space where a choice can be made. We can choose whether to be truly present in that split second and actively engage in both that moment and what is to come, or we can mindlessly complete the function and move on to the next thing without any awareness whatsoever.
I remember the exact situation in which I first recognized fully my own agency over my singing process and the power of my own choices in these “moments between”. I was in Aub, Germany, participating in an international voice intensive, completely unraveling and re-building my vocal technique in the midst of a crisis. It had become clear that my instrument was totally out of balance. I needed to learn how to access my chest dominant sound and my breathing pattern was flawed. I was breathing out of panic, it was shallow and tense. I had to relearn how to do this essential vocal skill. I was preparing for a performance that evening and was full of fear that I would expose myself as a singing fraud. After all, I had about 30 years of international professional singing experience at a high level at that point, so there was some ego to lose! I had three choices: sing in the new (but not yet at ALL familiar) way, sing in the old way (and try to fake my way through it), or not sing at all.
I decided to choose Door Number 1, because after all, what the heck was I doing there if I was not going to be brave enough to try something new? But in order to do this new and scary thing, I knew I would have to prepare myself well. Instead of staying at the communal dinner table and hang out with my colleagues, I went off to my room, changed into my performance gear and went to the venue. It was quiet and deserted, and I spent a good 20-30 minutes there, walking through my entire performance again and again in silence. As I practiced in this way, I took time at every rest, every breath mark, to slowly do my new breathing practice and notice everything that I was doing. What I recognized–to my amazement–was that there were minuscule but important choices I was making at every juncture, and that I in fact had control over what those choices were. As I slowed down my process, I could see the many ways in which I was overworking, under-energizing, compensating or lacking in focus. The more I repeated the movements of my performance, the more I saw how much I could influence its course if I took the time to pay attention.
Unlike my usual practice of watching my colleagues perform, I stole away and stayed backstage to wait from where I was making my entrance from below the stage. I was intensely focused. When the time came for me to perform, I went from beginning to end, following my plan, and was astonished at how LONG it felt (it was an aria that was max 3 minutes long). I was acutely aware of how luxuriously long every rest was, how much time I had to make artistic and vocal decisions. I didn’t need to gasp for air, but could patiently wait for it to enter my body just by making space. It was exhilarating.
What I experienced in that moment was the power of choice. That if I allowed space between moments, that space was mine to command. That I could choose again and again to do things differently if I wanted to. In the betweenness is power. The power is awareness and choice. We can ask: Do I really want to do this thing? Or do I wish to do something else? What do I want? Why don’t I do it?