Don't Look Down

I love this quote from Dr. Paul Lam about looking down, and I will definitely be sharing it with my voice students.

"The eye is the energy of the spirit - the window of the mind. Often you will notice people practicing tai chi with their eyes downcast, like this as I show you Chen style Single Whip movement. This will lower your internal energy. Now look where the direction of the energy lies, you can feel your energy being stronger and more wholesome. The principle is to connect your vision with your internal energy. Looking down is actually a part of human nature. All of us at times feel unsure of ourselves, and we tend to look down which will lower our energy. To be aware of this is easy but it is challenging to do well. However, no matter what level of tai chi you are at, if you are aware and focus on this principle, you will improve. When your visual direction is right, your energy will be stronger, your tai chi, posture and feeling about yourself improve."

I teach my students to avoid looking down because it cuts off the audience. They can't see and connect with your facial expressions. I had never connected looking down with a change in energy, although now it seems obvious.

I've always believed that inspiration and enlightenment are actual energies as opposed to just ideas. When we "look where the direction of our energy lies" we grow stronger physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Looking down, on the other hand, literally weakens us and reinforces negative attitudes (both our own attitudes, and the attitudes of others about us).

Wow.



-- Posted from my iPhone



-- Posted from my iPhone

I Have a Secret

OK, it's not that big of a secret, but it is something that a lot of people don't know about me and would probably not expect from a voice teacher.

I don't crave the spotlight. Most singers I know do. Yes, some deal with performance anxiety which creates a love/hate relationship with performing, but they cope because whatever negatives they experience are worth the thrill they feel on stage in front of an audience or the joy of being the center of attention.

I have to sing, but I could easily live without performing. I sing for the joy it brings me. I sing becauses there is beautiful music just begging to be sung. I sing because it helps me understand who I am.

I perform because it is good for me to remember the fears and vulnerabilities involved in performing. How can I teach a student to deal with that if I haven't done it myself?

I perform because not performing seems like I'm being ungrateful for the marvelous gifts I've been given, both the gifts of my ability and the gifts of the songs themselves.

I perform because of the relationships formed through performance. Some of the people I love the most in this world are people I have shared the stage with. The smell of the theatre makes me homesick, not for the spotlight, but for the people and the experiences.

I perform because I know that my voice and the messages I bring have the power to affect others. And if I can help bring joy or peace to someone, I figure it is worth all the anxiety that comes with my performing.

And lastly, I perform because songs were written to be heard. Yes, I've had some moments of incredible beauty in the practice rooom. Yes, I have had transcendent experiences singing alone. But music, as it was intended, and when it is the most profound is when the energies of the creators (composers and poets), the realizers (singers, players, conductors) and the listeners (audience) unite and feed each other. It's not as common as some would like to think, but when it happens, that experience is like no other. And that, most of all, is why I continue to perform. I walk on stage not to sing, but to become music.




-- Posted from my iPhone