I’ve gotten better at letting love in.
I used to be less-than-absorbent.
Like that desiccated sponge at the corner of your kitchen sink, love water could run right over me and down the drain.
By the time I started to soften and soak, I thought, “Well, this is very unfamiliar, nay, uncomfortable. I’m gonna scoot my damp self back over to the corner and seethe with envy at the Scrub Daddy. He sees all the action. AND with a perpetual smile on his face.”
The reasons for this are many; I’m not alone in my family line in the struggle to receive nice things.
In my case, I was lucky enough to go through a couple of proper pulverizations.
More than that, though, the thing that softened my sponge was needing forgiveness. I smashed some folks on my way to plopping my soul in base of the grinder.
It was like yesterday when one of the Calla-nuggets destroyed the other Calla-nugget’s Thanksgiving craft. No amount of Elmer’s glue was going to Humpty Dumpty that together again.
I reflected, “You destroyed your brother’s project. What’s the reason you did that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Now he’s crying a lot. What do you think you can do to help?” I asked.
Fact is, there was no bringing the pinecone turkey back from its demise.
“Say sorry?”
I said, “Give it a try.”
“Sorry brother,” said the responsible party.
After a few sniffles, the injured party replied, “I’m working on it.”
(We’ve evolved from “BAD SORRY!”)
But that was such a clear picture of what forgiveness has meant to me.
I crushed some pinecone turkeys, and there was no amount un-crushing I could do.
All I had was, “I’m so sorry.”
And I was given the gifts of, “I love you. I understand. And I forgive you.”
And that’s how this sponge got his squeeze.
Letting love in means you have to open the door to your heart, and when your heart’s been broken, that’s scary.
(I’m convinced that’s why a lot of folks walk around with their head jutting forward (besides the phones) — the brain is trying to assess all situations before the heart enters the room.)
But there’s no other way.
When it comes to singing, this skill is one of the most helpful tools of all.
When you sing, you’re sending vibrating communication out with your exhale. But if there’s not a simultaneous welcome back to your heart, you’re missing the whole point.
It’s the completion of a love circuit, the balance of a natural cycle, like breathing in and out.
Telling a story is a welcome to your narrative party.
So here are 2 tools you can use to try this out.
🔧 Number one — sing the phrases of your song, and for each phrase, bring your hand slowly to your heart. You’re saying, “You’re invited to my unrepeatable experience of this story.”
The great thing about this is nobody can see what’s in there, they just know whether or not they’re invited.
🧰 Number 2 — think about your pharynx.
I joke with my students that the answer to almost any question I ask in lessons is “the pharynx!” Kind of like kids in Sunday school; the answer’s always “Jesus!”
Here’s your pharynx:
It’s where 90% of your resonance happens. (Nope, it’s not your mask. Don’t get me going on the get-it-forward thing.)
So, here’s what I want you to do.
Snort.
Feel where your uvula flops back against the back there.
That’s your pharynx.
Now hum your fave tune.
Meditate on that space. Notice the vibrating stream moving through it. That’s your most direct resonance location.
Now I want you to imagine your pharynx is receiving a fancy vibration massage.
Like the part of your back that needs the most TLC right now getting the best lavendar lotioned love. That kind of feeling.
Let your pharynx actually feel good getting those vibes from your vocal folds.
Like you’re slowing down to smell some unexpected fall roses, really tasting that bite of chocolate cake, or feeling sweet unconditional love from your doggy’s excited “your back!” panting.
(here were some in Boston last week — so pretty.)
If you’re enjoying your singing, guess who’s gonna be invited to enjoy it too? The folks you’re singing for.
Inviting someone into your heart and enjoying beauty — I imagine the world would be a much different place if more folks were doing that.
While you and I can’t wave a global scale love wand, we can do it in our own small sphere. And I’m convinced that makes a difference.
You know how I know?
Because it’s the folks who invited me into their hearts over a drink or on a stage, and showed me the beauty of enjoying a flower, a melody, and a smile — it’s those things that helped me let love in.
So, walk around today with your heart and head lined up, open your sternum door, and hum some tunes and enjoy those vibes.
Your song’ll give off love and bring it right back to you multiplied. And again.
These days it’s so important to remember — there’s only one you, and folks need to hear the story flowing love that only you can sing.
Love much,
Dan
PS Here’s me talking about how forgiveness changed things and singing “Shine” from The Spitfire Grill. (You can skip ahead to a little over 1 minute in.)
PPS You mighta missed last week’s email because I got a little behind on sending it out. There’s a terrific interview with Merri Sugarman from Tara Rubin Casting included that you’ll want to listen in on. Love and appreciate her point of view and her genuine care for actors. Click here to get it.