Holding a posture that looks like this,*
we tilt our heads, open our mouths, close our eyes and sing, “Ahhhhhh,” when the rattle and drum beat begins.
The drum and rattle hold the center of the belly rich sound cascading round us, seeming to balloon the walls of the teepee. We live in our own vibratory realm for the duration of fifteen minutes of clock time.
Eons flash by with the evolutionary genetic genius of vocalizations coming into form on this planet:
oceans thunder, fires crackle, earth groans, seeds pop, winds shudder, tall grasses murmur, . . .
crabs clatter, birds chitter, buffaloes bellow, horses whinny, boars grunt, bees buzz, dragonflies flit, . . .
the human sounds of feeling arrive – laughing, crying, chortling, screaming, snarling, moaning, a sibilance of sighing, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhing.
All of this sound in one small teepee, one small group, cocoons us in the transitory soup of transformation.
The cacophony ebbs and flows and ebbs again. With our eyes closed and our open mouths tilted toward the sky, seemingly lost in this world of our own vocalizations, the group still seems to know when clock time has almost reached the end. Sound softens, weaves into harmony. The rattle/drum ceases.
Blessed silence, replete with the contrast.
Slowly the group begins to sit down, a water bottle is sipped, snacks are passed, journals open and words take shape on pages. A sense of wonder permeates the teepee. Gently we begin to share:
I lost myself in the sound. Became one with everyone.
My voice took flight.
I’ve never experienced such freedom.
The chaos scared me a bit, but then our sounds changed. I experienced the rainforest, then heard instruments, even angelic voices.
I couldn’t distinguish my voice from the others and when I finally did, I was shocked to hear how big the sounds were that were coming out of me.
I’m speechless at the moment…So much unfolded in such a short time.
My throat opened up and my mouth moved in ways I never thought possible. I was amazed to witness my tongue take on a life of its own.
Usually, I’m not comfortable singing at all and yet here right now I sang with abandon. Felt awesome, empowering.
Standing in our voices, giving voice to the “currency” deep within… that’s how we begin living the new story of our lives.
* images from Ecstatic Body Postures – An Alternate Reality Workbook by Belinda Gore, pp 272 and 276.
There’s something about giving voice in the way we have been made for, for thousands of years. Elemental. Wonderful post, Deborah.
Thank you, Kate. Having just read your Tuppence, I’m also reminded of all the non-vocal ways we communicate, too, …AND I have been heard howling with my dogs who sometimes pretend to be something wilder. I love the look they give me when I do that!