4/19/14 Something new

4/19/14 - Saturday

Something new to report about relaxation.

Context:  I am starting to work out - like really - with a trainer. In between sessions, I do my assigned exercises.  Besides the challenge of doing the exercises, form especially my neck is my biggest challenge. If I'm tired form is harder to do and be aware of.

Today I did my exercises from 11-12 and decided to wait at least an hour before singing to rest and also especially to let my neck relax.  at 2 ish, I did my vocal exercises and at the beginning noticed tongue tightness which I attribute to hang over from physical exercise - which could be the truth OR it could be masking not quite right singing technique. That's a conundrum.

But here is the new thing:  as I continued with my vocaleses my voice loosened up and it and my body relaxed.  I've noticed by body (in general) relaxing as a result of singing but not necessarily my throat relaxing as a result of singing.

Honestly it usually goes the other way. I tweak my throat while singing. This makes sense as I am learning and many things are not quite in the right place al the time - not quite "grooved" neurologically yet so things happen.

But what I am now learning; having an experience with is when I do something consistently "healthy"/right for my body/vocally, I'm benefiting from not only wrapping myelin, growing in skill, but also seeing, feeling my throat relax.

I wonder if singing can actually (when done with correct technique) can actual self perpetuate relaxation - not wear itself out. Which means if this is possible, I could learn to sing for long periods of time without wearing my voice out, while experiencing wells of relaxation while singing.

This may be a "duh" moment for you. But to me it is an experiential moment of aha because that means I could eventually sing a role that called for lots of singing and healthily and joyfully experience it.

Do you know psychologically, physiologically that could do for me? Wow!  That would infuse me with greater confidence and ease as a performer.  A whole new level I hadn't a clue existed.
Wow.

4/18/14

I'm trying to figure it out but I think I started my return to voice lessons - return to training my voice in August, 2013.

Since then I've had about 3 lessons a week, 20/30 min each. I am making strides.  Since then I:

Practice almost everyday between lessons - following instruction from my recorded lessons (I record most of my lessons).

The quality of my practice has greatly improved. I am not besieged by horrible gremlin judgements while singing and have developed a new muscle: observation.  I send an email to my teacher letting her know what vocaleses I do and how they went; what I noticed and send it off to her.  It's my way of helping myself be observant (because I want to express what I noticed) and a low key way to be accountable.

I don't beat myself up for not practicing. I don't always want to practice when I do anyway.  Practicing has become a kind of "hygiene" for me. It's good hygiene for well-being (I feel good physically and mentally and emotionally after I sing - from intake of oxygen, having a break from other things, working toward a goal - though less so for this).

I am taking the long view and not attaching as much to an "endgame" as I did in my previous years of study with Susan.  As I mentioned, I did musical theater and harbored wishes to be the star - of my childhood dreams. Since it wouldn't be Broadway, maybe it could be somewhere local.  But my "needing" to be good - to compete, to get the part, to prove to myself and everyone, to impress - to whatever - were counterproductive to learning to sing.  So much emotional baggage took my train of the tracks most of the time.

Writers and dancers and actors who train seriously often are "required" "forbidden" etc that they not perform at all. Performing is kind of detrimental actually because skills (technical) are not in place and the pressure of auditions, the pressure to perform consistently when cast can really wreck havoc on a person.  Consider having constant fears that you can't always hit the high notes or not have the technique and stamina to sing an entire show without wrecking your voice every time - eeuw. That's just bad. Demoralizing.

So Susan and my experiment is about singing. Learning to sing. Learning to sing "legit" (and improving my belt" - learning to blend. Learning to have choices. Learning to observe and feel the subtleties of my bodies cues. Learning to breathe and support - building muscle.  Gaining confidence in skills that become grooved.  "Flying" and enjoying the pleasure of singing.

A lot of this was out of reach. I inadvertently pushed them away in my rush to "be good".

This is a lesson in process. A practice of "being with" - just as meditators learn. It's not the result but the process. And paradoxically the results more swiftly and smoothly but not only "surrendering" but embracing to the process without results.

I don't know what the endgame even looks like.  As my voice develops,  I don't recognize it. I don't know it - and that's a wonderful surprise. I say - wow - did you hear hear that note? That was great!  And sometimes now - I will sing a handful of bars and the breathing will be easy or the feel will be light and bouncy - these are glimpses of my development.  These I take great pleasure in. They are what is being ushered towards me as I move towards them on my journey to sing.

PS
Learning to sing without a big, urgent endgame opens you as it has done me, to greater self-kindness, patience, OK'ness with what is.  The "preciousness" of my lessons has lessened as I get to have another try in a few days. So I've relaxed "into" instruction.  It's more OK for things to not go OK. It's OK when they go well too cause I'll have another crack soon to see if it was, not a fluke, but only a glimmer or a new real thing coming in.

Thanks,
Heather

In the beginning to my experiment with my teacher now...

January 13, 2014

It is stuck in my head that I've been hitting my head against the wall of my demons for 13 years.  It's actually longer.

I called Susan N. when I was 27.  Fresh from huge left turn in my life when I dropped out of an education program to teach secondary education.  I was overwhelmed - not sleeping, or eating - basically keeping a constant hum of anxiety attacks at bay - barely.  The thing that I believe would have put me over the edge was to go forward and face 2 classrooms of students 5 days a week for 6 months.  I had no idea how I'd get through.  So I pulled out.

I regret it.  But also if I had not made that left turn I would NEVER have met the most positive influences of my life: Susan (my wonderful friend and voice teacher and mentor and and and!).

From an early age, I'd loved musicals - like close and lock my brother's room to play and lose myself in singing along with record albums until he'd come home and politely kick me out.  He had a stereo, you know - speakers.  I had a portable record player that was fine for "babies" but not now that I was 10, 11, 12, 13.....

Think of it - I was 10 when A Chorus Line, Annie, and Chicago were hot hot hot! I saw them all. Can you imagine - the excitement that coursed through my body was electric. I wanted nothing more than to sing and dance and act on Broadway - channeling, inspiring, changing people's lives with music and dance and story. Give hope. Give light. As it had given to me.

While I totally plugged into the electricity - the feeling of it all - the technical parts were barriers. 

Learning to dance. That takes dance classes (which I loved). But it takes A LOT of classes to train your body. You need resources to do that.  I danced around my living room like that line in Chorus Line - and that was great but not enough.

When I started to take voice lessons, it was so difficult.  Tight throat. Hoarse throat.  I was about 15 or so.... And while I WANTED it BAD. Wanting is not enough when you have to face practice.  I hated to listen to my voice.  I struggled along for awhile switched teachers in high school and finally "gave up" - that is until I was 27 and seeking salvation in my shame of having dropped out of the program and working a shitty temp job as a clerk, I found Susan..

When I first spoke to Susan, I told her I wanted to be sing like "Cinderella" in "Into the Woods" - which is basically a light classical sound.  Ha!  Far away from what I could do.

I had lots of enthusiasm. For talking. For therap-izing, for avoiding the work during my lessons. We met meeting weekly. Slowly I learned. And learned to belt. Which gave me fuel to keep going when trying to become a more classical singer was / or seemed outside my realm.

The illusion of loving something SO MUCH can make you think (falsely) that you can do it.  Art-making is often accessed from so many paths - and sometimes completely opposite from head-on that it can make you head spin.  Wanting it doesn't make it possible to do it. But it'll keep you going and/or coming back.

Susan never never gave up on me.  She carefully guided me into at least vocalizing during my lessons and it's because of her that I learned anything because - guess what?  I wouldn't practice.  I tried sometimes - but I got a tight throat. Sigh. And had a lot of terrible voices in my head that fed on my fear. Fear I'd never learn to do something I wanted to do.

At times I'd stop with lessons - for 2 years....for 3 years... for oh who knows....

Then I learned some new things thanks to a writing class. A really hard class.  Susan agreed to try out an experiment:  10 minute voices lessons practically every day.  Goal was to vocalize and learn how to practice. Learn how to observe. Learn how to extend observations throughout an exercise and session.  Observation is NOT judgment or criticism. To learn to work without goal - to focus on exercises and learning those. These would be building blocks (as the are of course) to other parts of singing that I didn't need to worry about or work towards. Just relieve the pressure of jumping from a vocalese to singing. That kind feel like disconnected thing -- until learning begins to take place and seeps and works into songs.

When one is so very critical of the self it is almost impossible to make a sound - or make it again and again and again - to correct and then find self-correction. 

So I've been learning for months how to observe. How to practice.  

For the first time in my life - I am making a kind of headway that I hadn't been able to do so far.

I struggle to practice but nearly as much. I can practice and observe in my practice things I've noticed.

It's amazing.

Singing out for now (pun intended).
H