What The Body Remembers

I have heard stories of 80 year old women remembering dance steps from nights out in their 20's and adults who were once upon-a-time piano students sitting down at the piano to remember every note to "Fur Elise." In massage school, I learned that we hold memories in our bodies. Both trauma and pleasant times literally sit in our bodies, waiting to be triggered. I have experienced this myself... spontaneously crying or laughing during various types of bodywork. When I sit quietly, I can feel the weight of repressed expression sitting in my jaw while I gently ask it to release and leave me alone for just one hour of meditation. Anger is trapped in my neck and the only thing that releases it is a clever joke. The fears that occupy my shoulders perk up anytime I sit at the piano, making it impossible for me to keep my posture perfectly straight. My body is like a library of every emotional experience I have ever had.


If my body is like a library, then my singing lessons are like the card catalog. Every note, exercise, and song recalls an event I have experienced before. I can vividly remember 9th grade choral concerts, failed auditions, crying at competitions that earned me 2nd place equivalent scores, my first piano recital, my first solo in church, the first time I felt free on stage, hives that surfaced on my arms before dive bar performances. So many experiences have been sitting inside me, stagnated by the responsibilities of adulthood and the stress of being aware of the outside world. 


In Wunderkind, a novel about a boy piano genius living in Communist Bulgaria, the main character, who is like a smarter and more talented version of Holden Caufield, complains that he hates hearing adults play Chopin Nocturns because they never get it right. Only young people can play Chopin with the sensitivity his legacy deserves. I understand what he means, and it is part of my daily struggle as a musician who is past the age of 18. 


When I was more innocent and naive, I felt music internally. The sound waves of each song pierced through me and the vibrations of the piano strings shot straight into my arms, up my shoulders, and into my brain, making me feel light-headed and calm. As my singing range increased, and the resonance in my high notes became more vibrant, choral practice would make me disoriented in a way I would later understand as feeling "high." The danger of the college years, when young people experiment with chemically induced pleasures, is that it becomes harder to reach these states in the original, natural way, with music. 


Yesterday in my voice lesson, I caught a glimpse of this original state again. Just like the first time when I was 17, my high notes came out of me in a relaxed manner and I felt the buzzing in my head as my eyes and jaw relaxed once more. The whole day I felt calm and at peace with everything. I carried the calm with me through my practice, teaching, and my evening rehearsal. Because of this calm state, I was able to make mistakes without hating myself and create melodies without fear. This calm has been sitting within for a long time, and my body finally reminded me. The body always remembers.

Improvising

Every time I start a piano lesson with a student, we make up a song. I start by playing some chords, and my student makes up a melody on the high keys. We also play a lot of duets. Playing music together teaches cooperation as well as fine tuning rhythm skills, creativity, and intuition. It is always my favorite part of the lesson.

All of my social interaction is surrounded by music these days. I spend most of my free time with musician friends, my songwriting partner, and my concert going companions. Collaborating with friends is becoming my favorite way to connect. Last week, a friend's original country song inspired me to dust off my banjo to see what I could do. It was so much fun! I get a high off of playing music with others. It feels magical. You start with silence, one person begins to play, and the musician who is following has to use her intuition to see what she can add. I use the word intuition quite seriously. When you improvise music, you have to become a little psychic. You are always just a mili-second into the future, predicting what will come next, but there are also scientific aspects to it. There are formulas in music. Certain chord progressions happen over and over again, and once you play for a while, your ear becomes used to knowing what may come next. I find improvising with others to be a good workout for my brain.  Like meditation, you must stay completely focused on each moment as it goes by. If you don't, you will either make a mistake or just play something totally boring, and I would rather hear a mistake than something boring. Improvisation teaches you how to work creatively with others.



Do you ever find yourself in a social setting where someone says something that makes you uncomfortable? What happens? It depends on many factors: the other personalities in the room, the physical environment, the conditions that brought you together, how much sleep everyone had the night before... 

I had a conversation the other day with a friend who said something that stuck with me. In terms of relationships, he said that most people do not act but react. We react to the way others treat us. We react to their tone of voice, their words, and their body language. If someone is nice to us, we are nice to them. If someone is a jerk, we are a jerk back. In music practice, if someone begins a song in a sad minor key, we all begin to feel the same mood as the leader and we all work to create an environment based on what we feel from each other. I have been an audience member at shows where a band member makes a mistake, and the other band members react with anger, as if the imperfection of this one person is reflecting their own musical skills. When I improvise with students and they hit a bad note, my first instinct is to just keep playing. There is no need to point it out, because chances are that the player already feels a little uncomfortable with realizing they are not perfect. If someone misses a beat, it may just be an opportunity to change the rhythm and merge into a totally different type of song. Improvisation is all about staying present and going with the flow.

When someone makes an inappropriate statement or treats me in a questionable manner, I have found that it's important to check in with myself and see what I can do to control the situation, just like music practice. If you are in a jam session, and someone messes up, getting angry will not save the song. You can save the song by improvising and using your own musical skills to take the song somewhere else, possibly somewhere completely unexpected. Isn't this true in life? You are late to an appointment because of a traffic jam. Frustrating, but what can you do? You can become all worked up, red faced with raised blood pressure, or you can just accept your fate and enjoy the song on the radio. You can improvise with what you actually have control over in that present moment.

Heart Meditation (Original Music)

I have been learning about Sound Healing for a few years and have been dreaming about making my own. Here is my first attempt at meditation music. I suggest you listen with headphones, get into a comfortable position, close your eyes, and breathe deep while you focus on the music.

This meditation is intended to calm the heart beat and create a feeling of peace. Enjoy!