The Power of Hymns

I'm reading Anne Lamott's Grace (Eventually) and found this wonderful line:

No matter that you may sing poorly, and fumble around with the hymnal, and sing the wrong words, the hymn expands to make room for all the voices, even yours.  

What a beautiful message, and I believe it is true.  I'm also a firm believer in the fact that music can open us to new ideas, and a new approach to old music can open windows of revelation.

Several years ago, I was listening to LDS General Conference online and heard them announce that the choir would sing, "Come Let us Anew".  A little part of me groaned.  I've always hated that song.  But the arrangement by Mack Wilberg made me listen in a new way, and by the end of the song, I felt as if I had been hearing it, really hearing it, for the first time.  It has now become one of my favorites.

I had a similar experience this year with "You Can Make the Pathway Bright".  I've always found it to be a little cheesy, but this time around it spoke to me.


A year or so ago, I had a beautiful dream that brought new meaning to an old hymn.  I've never been a huge fan of "Dear to the Heart of the Shepherd", but the context from the dream changed everything for me.  It was no longer just a song about going out and bringing those sinners back, it became a song that truly helped me to understand the love that God has for each of us.  It became for me a song about reaching out to people as children of God, seeing them and treating them as God would, not judging them and calling them to repentance.  Today in church, this was supposed to be the intermediate hymn, but we had a special musical number instead.  The music was good, but part of me was disappointed that I didn't get to sing this hymn.


Our closing hymn today was "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go", which I've always heard as a big missionary song, or a "do what you are told" kind of thing.  But today I heard something different.  I could really say the words "I'll go where you want me to go", because now, for me, it means being open to the experiences that God wants me to have.  And it's not about someone else telling me what to do, but about me making personal choices based on personal revelation.


A hymn, like the Gospel itself, can "make room for all the voices".  And there is room in each hymn for each person to find what they need to hear, if they listen and sing with not just their voices, but their hearts as well.

Advertising on Vehicles

I've seen lots of advertisements on cars, trucks, and vans. Sometimes it's just the name of a company. Sometimes it's more--a slogan, or a motto. Either way, I do think it is good advertising. When given a choice, people tend to go with what they are familiar with, even when that familiarity is just seen a sign on the side of a bus several times a week.

But sometimes your vehicle says things that maybe you don't want it to. For example, a couple of weeks ago, I pulled to the stoplight behind and to the side of a vehicle that belonged to a home cleaning service. I always check those out because I dream of someday being able to afford to have someone else take care of my messy house. But, I quickly decided that I didn't need to add that company to my mental list. Why? Because the outside of the car was filthy. Now in all fairness, this is Minnesota in the winter and lots of yuck and crud gets kicked up on to the car from the road. My own dark green car looks awful. But, I'm not advertising for a cleaning company every time I drive my car. The color and condition of your vehicle does say something about your company. It's a lot like how I hate calling a new student to set up a lesson if I'm a little hoarse. The condition of my voice says something about my business.

Today, I read the back of a truck while we were stopped at a light, and because of what I read, I made a point of looking at the rest of the trailer and cab for company names. Here's what it said.

If it's...Honest.

If it's...Ethical.

If it's...Legal.

If it's...Moral.

That's our direction.

Love it! And what a nice reminder to the world, even if the people that see it are not your potential customers.

When the Ideal Isn't Reality

There is a lot talk these days, especially with the current political climate, about how things "should" be. The ideal is certainly something that we want to be working towards, but we also need the skills (and programs, support, money, laws, etc.) to deal with the reality of what is.

I worked with a wonderful voice teacher that taught me how to make intelligent choices about where and where not to breathe in a song. In a perfect situation, the composer has aligned text phrases with musical phrases that aren't too long to perform in one breath. In reality, what a poet has to say in one phrase of text may extend through two, three, or even four musical phrases. Or the musical phrase and the text phrase may match up, but be impossibly long for the singer. Or the musical and text phrases may not line up at all.

Even when you have that perfect musical/text match-up that works well within what the singer can do in one breath, problems can arise. I was sick for nearly a month before my last performance. My asthma means that breathing for singing is the last thing to return to normal. And being nervous will also change how your body uses the air, so you may have many "surprise" deviations from the breathing plan during a performance.

If we only teach a student where the ideal breathing spots are, we leave them vulnerable when they go into a situation similar to that last performance of mine. But I did just fine. And you know why? Because the same teacher that taught me how to make the best possible choice for a place to breath also taught me how to cope when that is just plain not going to happen. I think we do a disservice to our students when we only prepare them for the ideal and don't teach them how to deal with the less than ideal.

I believe that too many kids have sex way too early. I'm OK with abstinence being the ideal. But for many people it is not the reality. If all we teach is abstinence, we leave these kids vulnerable to pregnancy, disease, and heartbreak. I am a huge supporter of sex-education, ideally in the home, but since that is not a reality for a lot of people, it does need to be available elsewhere. For years I've toyed with the idea of selling condoms to parents to give to their kids when they have that talk. For the Mormons, the condom itself would say "CTR", Choose the Right, a phrase the kids have heard since childhood. We could do "WWJD" for our Evangelical Christian friends. The parents can say, "I think you should wait because (fill in the blank with your religious/moral view), but if you do have sex, please be safe." Then the kid carries it in a purse or wallet and has one final reminder from Mom/Dad/God before they make that big decision. It may encourage them to wait. Or it may just mean that they come home not pregnant and disease free. Are people really willing to sacrifice the lives of so many because ideally you shouldn't have sex until married, so we're not even going to talk about it and how to help the people that are having pre-marital sex?

Now that half of the people quit reading because they were offended, I'll continue on with one more example and this one is far less controversial.

I certified this weekend to teach Tai Chi. We spent a lot of time working on refining our own performance of the form and talking about how to work with the elderly and people with diseases and disabilities. We learned to model the form for our students, showing them the way it should be. We also learned that safety and comfort are more important than doing the movements the "right" way. We learned the ABC's of Tai Chi: Always Be Comfortable. We can help students adapt the form to make it more comfortable for their current physical condition. In the perfect world, we would all be thin, with joints and muscles that functioned properly, and brains that enabled clear thinking and memory. But if I only teach to that ideal, the people that need Tai Chi the most won't be able to do it. Heck, I wouldn't be able to do it.

One of the most beautiful things mentioned in the Tai Chi training was that Tai Chi is an internal art, not an external one. If we get caught up in the choreography we miss the real benefits. What the body does on the outside is a way of enabling the internal, but the mind is a powerful thing. If all a student can do is think about moving their hand, they still benefit.

I'm not opposed to teaching the ideal. In fact, I think it is important. We need to know where we want to go, what we want to achieve. But we also need to deal with the realities of the here and now. And failure to talk about that reality and find ways to cope with it leaves a lot of people in the dark, alone and afraid.

Weak Things Made Strong

I stayed home from church today to get some rest after my long week. But God, the Universe, and my own brain decided that I needed a little inspiration anyway. At a moment I least expected it, I thought these words, "I am willing to bear this burden if my doing so opens the door for other people to find what they need." I don't want to go into all the details of which burden I was considering. It's not important here. And even though the words in print look a little co-dependent, that was not the feeling at all. It was pure love.

Then I thought of two scriptures. The first is in Ether 12:27 in the Book of Mormon.

27 And if men come unto me I will show unto them their^aweakness. I ^bgive unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my ^cgrace is sufficient for all men that ^dhumble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make ^eweak things become strong unto them.

I have always read that as meaning that if we become humble and teachable (and in this case, willing to trust in the Lord) we can overcome, even excel at the weak things in our lives. Perhaps that was the meaning Ether intended, but it made me think of Paul's words to the Corinthians. (For those of you that are not religious, simply substitute "Love" when it says "Christ". For the religious among you that think that is sacrilege, Christ is love, and love is the power through which all God does is accomplished.)

8 For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.

9 And he said unto me, My ^agrace is sufficient for thee: for my^bstrength is made perfect in ^cweakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may ^drest upon me.

10 Therefore I take pleasure in ^ainfirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in ^bpersecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am ^cweak, then am I ^dstrong.

I'm not sure that I'm at the stage of glorying in my infirmities, or taking pleasure in them, but sometimes I am thankful for them. The difficult things I've been through give me unique insights into the struggles of others. I am in a position to make a difference in a way that people who have not had my challenges cannot. My weakness actually gives me an edge.

I am strong because I am weak.

My Major Achievement

I have a Master's degree in Vocal Performance. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears went into that degree, and I am very proud of what I accomplished. But I'm even more proud of what I accomplished today.

Today I completed my instructor certification for Tai Chi for Arthritis, Seated Tai Chi, and Tai Chi for MS. In so many ways, this was a major achievement for me. As a child, I was a high academic achiever and excelled in music. Those were my things I did well. I don't know that anyone ever really said that I was bad at physical things, but they definitely were not where my strengths were focused. I was taller and heavier than most kids and although I was sufficiently coordinated enough to play the piano, that coordination didn't seem to transfer to the recess games of kick ball or jump rope. I played. I did OK, sometimes, but I was never really good at it. And a part of me needed to be really good, so I focused my time and energy on the things that I knew I was good at. I had a teacher that would sometimes let me stay in during recess to do other academic things. I loved it, and appreciate the fact that she helped me succeed there, but now, I kind of wish she had forced me to go out and play more.

I remember very distinctly our reading out loud sessions in my first grade class. Why do I remember them? Because I feared them. Every kid sat waiting for Jeannine to make a mistake and I was terrified that I would. From an adult perspective, I can see that the kids just wanted me to be more human, instead of super-human. If I made a mistake, it would be OK for them to make one too. But my child mind began to fear anything less than perfection.

Telling someone, "Do your best," is not always a wise idea. I knew that I had the potential to perform at a very high level. If I just pushed myself hard enough for long enough I could do it. But what people don't say enough is "Do the best you can under the present circumstances." In fact, it's easy for a teacher to see someone not really working to their full potential and push them harder without fully understanding the reasons why they are not working well, or how the words we use to push will actually affect the student. In fifth grade, we had a big project to do. I can't even remember exactly what the purpose was, but I remember the comment my teacher wrote. "You have met the requirements for an A, but I expected more from you." And my tender child's ego read that as 93% was not good enough. I was not good enough. Anything less than 100% and perfection was not good enough.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to actually achieve anything of importance when you are practically paralyzed with the fear of not being perfect? Somehow I managed to earn my Associate's, Bachelor's and Master's degrees in a field where people love to tell you how not perfect you are. In fact, we joke that the classes of your Freshman year as a music major are all about getting you to change your major to something else. And sadly, I'm not really sure it is a joke.

I chose to not pursue university positions where I could teach music majors because I didn't want to have to tell my students that they weren't good enough and they weren't doing enough. I choose to teach in a high school where the department philosophy is that every student, regardless of perceived talent, can learn and grow from choir and voice lessons. I had a wonderful teacher and mentor early on that taught people not voices. The person in front of her, and how they felt about themselves and about music was more important to her than that student's skill level. That was the kind of teacher I wanted to be. Of course I love teaching the really good kids that I can really get into the details with, but some of the most rewarding teaching I do is with students of "average" or "below average" talent. And yes, I put those terms in quotes for a reason. The more I study about how people learn, the more convinced I become that those that we label "average" or "below average" simply have not had the exposure, instruction, and practice time that the "stars" have had. We all learn at different rates and I really believe that with time and guidance, "average" people can do amazing things.

As one of my non-music courses for my undergraduate degree, I took a course called Sociology and Health. During that class we view Bill Moyers' "Healing and the Mind." I was fascinated. That series and the other things we discussed in that class opened my mind to new ways of thinking about health and healing. I especially loved the segment on Tai Chi and Chinese medicine. But I was a singer, hoping to be a voice instructor, so I filed away that interest in Tai Chi in my "sometime in the future" file. Over the years, I would see a class offered through Continuing Education or Community Education and would be interested, but the time was never convenient with my schedule, and I never seemed to have the money to do it.

Then one day, the stars aligned. I was having a slightly manic* day when I'm more likely to do the things I want without really worrying about how I am going to pay for it. It was time to do something for me. That day, I signed up for a Tai Chi class, mini-medical school (another great program I want to get back to) and made a massage appointment. I was very lucky to get into a class run by a teacher certified in the Dr. Paul Lam's Tai Chi for Health program. Slowly, through very similar methods to what I was using with my voice students, she helped me get over some of that fear of not being perfect. I was a morbidly obese, uncoordinated person who often forgets which way is right and which is left, who had issues with perfectionism, and social and performance anxiety, but it didn't matter. I could learn this.

I fell in love with Tai Chi, again. Not only did it make me feel better, I was also seeing all sorts of connections to what I was doing in the voice studio. I decided that I wanted to dig deeper. I wanted to become a Tai Chi teacher, so I could do more than just incorporate the principals into my voice teaching. I wanted to share all of the amazing things I was learning and feeling when I did Tai Chi.

I signed up for the teacher certification class...and the anxiety and perfectionism started creeping back in. Would I be good enough? Would my obesity work against me? Would they really certify someone that looks like I do to teach a health class? With my Fibromyalgia, I wasn't even sure I would be able to endure the two day class. But I knew that all those concerns were my old demons resurfacing. (They do that on occasion.) And I knew that I had beaten them before and could do it again.

I practiced and did everything I could to give myself the best possible chance of success. The night before, I packed my bag with two different sets of shoes in case one got uncomfortable, high protein snacks, water, gatorade, kleenex, Band-Aids, cough drops, and a variety of medications for any of my issues that might be problematic that day. I also told myself (and actually believed it too) that it was OK if I didn't get the certification and just got an attendance certificate instead. There was no pressing need for me to certify immediately, and improving my Tai Chi through this focused work was enough.

I got up early in the morning and gave myself more than twice the estimated travel time to arrive at the location. And then, I couldn't find the place where I was supposed to be. First, I expected the street to be further off the freeway than it was so I drove right past it. I am really familiar with the area, so I soon realized that I had gone too far and was not where I needed to be. No big deal. I turned around and headed back, and then had several other issues. By the time I got to class, I was a mess. I had given myself lots of time, so I was still early which gave me time to think about how I could excuse myself for a few minutes if I felt like I was going to have a melt down. (Crying is not a great way to introduce yourself to new people.) Now that I think about it, I realize that I could have used EB's nosebleed strategy. Why do I always forget the good stuff when I am stressed? (If you don't know EB, you'll have to ask me to explain this to you at another time.)

I'm not a quitter, and I've forced myself to do a lot of hard things. And sometimes, that's not a completely bad thing. It kept me from getting up and leaving, and having a good cry in the car before heading home. I was determined to take from this class whatever I could. And within the first few minutes of class, the instructor had done what all good teachers should do--he created a place where I felt safe and comfortable in learning. He immediately let us know that we needed to do what felt comfortable for our bodies. That might not seem like a big deal to someone else, but I felt a huge burden lifted. I could do what I could do and that was enough. I let of my worries and just did what I needed to do. And I tried not to freak out when we took turns leading or when I knew he was watching. And even then, the anxiety level was so much lower than singing for a voice jury or even some of the voice lessons I've had.

When I sing, I deal with anxiety by focusing on what I am trying to communicate. I focus on the beauty of the words and music. And sometimes, that allows me to let go enough to really create something wonderful. I'm no longer just singing, I'm becoming the song. At the end of the day today, we did a demo of what we had learned. I did fairly well even though that stupid voice in my head kept saying, "Get it right this time. They're watching," which of course always messes you up. The awesome part though was when it was time for the group learning Part II to do their demo. Others that knew the form were invited to do it with them. I was only doing the certification for the first part, but I know the second part as well. During that demo I had one of those experience where you are not "doing" Tai Chi, but "being" Tai Chi. I really felt it. And that would have been worth all the work of the class even if I hadn't received my certificate.

__________________

*Just to clarify, it has been determined that I am do not have bipolar disorder. Those seemingly manic days (or sometimes just hours) are really the days when my fibromyalgia is not causing fatigue or cognitive difficulties and my ADD brain gets super focused on something. The excitement and enthusiasm sometimes looks like a manic episode.

Nepalese woman burned for witchcraft

http://www.cnn.com/2012/02/18/world/asia/nepal-witchcraft-burning/index.html

I find this article disturbing on many levels.

My first thought was, what year is this? How can this still be happening in our world?

Next, I thought about the freedom that we have to practice our religion. But at what point does the practice of our own religion cross the line and demand that someone say, "No. This is wrong."? Unfortunately, the answer isn't always easy.

I was sickened by what this woman suffered while her 9 year child watched.

I was shocked that the 10 attackers that were arrested included 5 women and an 8 year old child.

The whole story is disturbing, but this sentence worried me too:

"Prime Minister Baburam Bhattarai appealed to the people not to heed to shamans and faith healers."

This scares me almost as much. In the west, we have become a science-focused society, which in many ways is good, but we are so dualistic that we can't accept that shamans and faith teachers may have something of value to share with us. Connections to nature and the spiritual world do not have to be dangerous, but every time something like this happens, we say ,"See, look how horrible that is." And we forget the atrocities that have been committed in the name of science.

How can we find and use the best of both worlds, while at the same time putting restraints in place so this kind of thing never happens again? Where do we draw the line for what actions are acceptable as part of a religious or spiritual practice?






-- Posted from my iPhone

I Respectfully Disagree

My friend Thom writes a great blog. And one of the things I appreciate most about his blog is that it makes me think. Sometimes he writes things with which I initially disagree, but his clear examination of the issue makes me at least think, if not revise my own views. One of Thom's recent posts really got me thinking. He talks about how we sometimes throw out our opinions on controversial topics without really considering who we might be offending. He makes some very good points.

I totally agree with this:

People who would never dream of marching around the office or grocery store spouting pro-life slogans or religious denunciations will gladly do so on Facebook–in front of many of those very same people. Not only is Facebook making us stupid, it’s making us insensitive.

I see a lot of hate on Facebook and frankly, it is upsetting. I love that one friend of mine is so positive. In fact, she occasionally posts reminders to her friends that they can post what they want on their own walls, but posts directly to her wall and comments on her posts should remain positive.

Facebook definitely has its drawbacks, but I also know how important Facebook, Twitter, and blogging have been for me in letting the world see the real me. I was always very careful about what I said or did around certain people. My church friends knew one person. My school friends knew another. People from work knew another person too. I kept my life compartmentalized. If a topic of discussion came up and I disagreed with the majority of the group I was with, I just kept quiet rather than sharing my own views. And after awhile it's hard to remember who you can say what to, so you don't say anything at all.

Social media changed that for me. The fact that I didn't have to deal with the immediate disapproval of my friends meant that it was a little safer to say what I really felt. Don't get me wrong, I still choose my words very carefully, but I think that the people that really follow my life on FB and my blog know the real Jeannine better than some people that only know me in real life. Social media can be a source of negativity and hatred. It can also help people like me to live with more integrity. The things I write will be there forever. I want what I write today to accurately represent the person I am today.

I disagree with the maxim Thom references about never discussing religion or politics. I think both need much more discussion. The problem is that we don't discuss. We state our opinion and then close our ears while someone else states theirs. We don't really listen and we don't try to understand. We know that our side is right and theirs is wrong, and we leave the "discussion" knowing no more than we did before. My personal opinion is this: when considering some of the current issues facing our country, if you aren't feeling at least a little conflicted about your choice, you don't know enough about the other side yet.

I want you to share your opinions, views, and beliefs with me. And I want to share mine with you. And then I want to talk about the things that brought us to those conclusions. And then, I want it to be OK for both of us to say "thank you, but I respectfully disagree," and no one gets offended and friends stay friends. We may even learn something from each other. Is that really so impossible?

This last quote from Thom brings up the most important issue of any communicating we do, whether in person or online. It's all about respect, people.

This country has no chance of ever solving its problems so long as we refuse to accord others the same respect we demand for ourselves. Social media makes it very easy to demand. But respect is increasingly harder to come by.

Finally, I want to share with you something that I found very beautiful. I totally agree with her. But that doesn't mean you need to. You may disagree. I will not be offended. And if you're not ashamed to know me, I will still be your friend.