Laura and I led our monthly singing circle last night (one-year anniversary!), and I am still buzzing from it.
At one point, someone taught a new song. We did call-and-response first, then in unison as we got more comfortable. Then we really settled in, and a three-part round wordlessly emerged. The harmonies wove around one another, we were many voices and one voice, and it was absolutely magical.
If you’re a musician who regularly plays in a band or sings in a choir, this is probably the reason you do it. The sociological term is “collective effervescence.” For this group of regular folks, none of whom are professional musicians or vocalists (least of all me!), it’s more of a surprise. You mean THIS is what happens when we get out of our heads and into our bodies?! Sign me up.
There is lots of research to support that making and listening to music is therapeutic, yet I find that many of us don’t experience these benefits regularly enough. We might sing in the car or shower (the best), but something else gets unlocked in us when we take the risk of singing together. Some of us used to do this in church, summer camp, or school choir, but many of those gatherings have fallen away or were even places of pain. I realized a few years ago that what I missed most about church wasn’t serving on committees (ack!) but SINGING. If I went to a concert, I wanted to sing along. If I went to a baseball game, I lived for the 7th inning stretch. So, I’ve been inviting more musical moments into my life and completely ditched this idea that I have to be musically talented to do so.
When my daughter was in first or second grade, she came home and told me they were doing a gymnastics unit at school and how fun it was. I immediately said, “Well, let’s get you signed up for gymnastics lessons!” She looked at me quizzically and said, “Mom, I don’t want lessons. I was just telling you it was fun.” I have returned to this moment so many times. Why do we want to instantly professionalize everything? What is it with us and our obsession with optimization? Instead, I want to live into words like tinker, dabble, putter, experiment, play, try. And that’s what song circle is all about.
Thanks to all our friends who came out last night. One friend shared that, after learning a song with us a few months ago, she sang it to her brother over the phone as an act of love. This is a relationship that maybe isn’t exactly where my friend wants it to be, and she and her brother are quite different. But she did it anyway, and he received it. I cried when I heard that story. We all need to be loved and seen, however uncomfortable it is. The poet Blake says that we are put on earth for a little while to learn to bear the beams of love. Maddeningly, the human condition is such that we have a hard time receiving love. Music is one of the things that can open up our pores, seep in when we’ve managed to block so much else out. Email me if you’d like to come to the next one!