Wednesday, September 21, 2011
It is alright when you come
When I walked in to Granite Gates today one of my favorite ladies was sitting at a table all alone. Everybody else was waiting for me in the common room where I play music. She looked confused and very worried. I have been told that she was a university professor in her younger years, very bright and active. I can see her great intelligence searching inside her brain for something she knows she has lost. She keeps running into black holes where she once knew herself. Where she had stored a lifetime she now finds nothingness. She knows this, and the pain it causes is written on her face. She is also a lady who loves music. Today when I walked in, she saw me and smiled. "It is you" she said and she sighed. "When you come it is alright." She touched her head. "I am not always looking for..." She trailed off then. "I can relax when you come." We held hands then and she walked with me to find a place in the music room.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Laryngitis, or I mean, read the words of Hellen Keller, for Christ's sake!
I have had laryngitis for three weeks. Its been hard, to say the least. I haven't been able to sing. So now that I am feeling better, except for my voice, I decided to play my regular Granite Gates gig. Every Wednesday I lead a sing-along in the dementia ward. It is a highlight of my week and a sunny spot in an often gray world for the people at Granite Gates.
Joe and Liza are the caregivers there, and they had to be my voice today. Sing the songs for me. They were great, but the elders mostly weren't singing along. I realized the importance of voice and energy then.
I am able to captivate the entire room when I am singing. Drowsy people wake up, quiet people sing and some, like Gladys, know all the verses to every song and sing out loud (though when questioned, Gladys denies knowing any of the songs and claims that she does not sing).
The voice is magic. I connect with the other souls in the room with my voice. The accordion waltzes and jigs and oompahs, swirls and pushes and pulls us with music and my voice weaves around the room. The song, the breath - we all share it, and that is what is important.
Perhaps because of the strength in this moment these people are able to beak free of the sickness that binds them for a while. They remember who they are through the music. They are time travelers transported back through the decades of their lives on the wings of song.
When I sing, people sing with me. Every time I begin a new song, it is an invitation. This is my greatest love. It is powerful when people sing together. Healing. I noticed today that most people at Granite Gates were enjoying the music, but they were not singing along. This was in part due to the fact that Joe and Liza didn't know all the lyrics, but also they lacked authority. Although they were having much fun, they did not believe in their singing. Their voices did not invite one to sing along. I see that this is an important and blessed gift, to encourage others to lift their voices in song.
Not speaking, I am listening more. Undoubtedly I hear more than I did. I am also experiencing frustration at not being able to express what I want to communicate. Using the little sign language that I remember, and filling in the rest, I try to impart my needs, wants, thoughts, desires, little insights and noticings about the world around me. Because of the amount of energy this takes, I just decided most things don't need saying. If my partner in communication is not understanding me, often I give up.
There is a sense of not being important in silence. I have a glimpse into the feelings of those many souls on the opposite side of the communication chasm, unable to build a bridge across. There are ways to do it, though, if the spirit is persistent enough. Perhaps if what needs saying is not easily forgotten.
Joe and Liza are the caregivers there, and they had to be my voice today. Sing the songs for me. They were great, but the elders mostly weren't singing along. I realized the importance of voice and energy then.
I am able to captivate the entire room when I am singing. Drowsy people wake up, quiet people sing and some, like Gladys, know all the verses to every song and sing out loud (though when questioned, Gladys denies knowing any of the songs and claims that she does not sing).
The voice is magic. I connect with the other souls in the room with my voice. The accordion waltzes and jigs and oompahs, swirls and pushes and pulls us with music and my voice weaves around the room. The song, the breath - we all share it, and that is what is important.
Perhaps because of the strength in this moment these people are able to beak free of the sickness that binds them for a while. They remember who they are through the music. They are time travelers transported back through the decades of their lives on the wings of song.
When I sing, people sing with me. Every time I begin a new song, it is an invitation. This is my greatest love. It is powerful when people sing together. Healing. I noticed today that most people at Granite Gates were enjoying the music, but they were not singing along. This was in part due to the fact that Joe and Liza didn't know all the lyrics, but also they lacked authority. Although they were having much fun, they did not believe in their singing. Their voices did not invite one to sing along. I see that this is an important and blessed gift, to encourage others to lift their voices in song.
Not speaking, I am listening more. Undoubtedly I hear more than I did. I am also experiencing frustration at not being able to express what I want to communicate. Using the little sign language that I remember, and filling in the rest, I try to impart my needs, wants, thoughts, desires, little insights and noticings about the world around me. Because of the amount of energy this takes, I just decided most things don't need saying. If my partner in communication is not understanding me, often I give up.
There is a sense of not being important in silence. I have a glimpse into the feelings of those many souls on the opposite side of the communication chasm, unable to build a bridge across. There are ways to do it, though, if the spirit is persistent enough. Perhaps if what needs saying is not easily forgotten.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
My Blogging
The experiences I have sharing song with the world will be here to read and comment on. Welcome!
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