Caroling, is it just for Xmas?

What thoughts come to mind with Christmas caroling?  Does the thought of standing outside for a period of time in crazy weather singing jingles about snowmen, reindeer and stable scenes bring chills up and down your spine (literally & figuratively)?  Or does it conjure up memories of a community joined together in a singular activity to bring cheer to others. 

We ponder why we sing silly songs outside during the shortest days of sunlight, but there must be something about this group activity for people to repeat it year after year after year. 

Could it be we realize this intangible experiential gift is something that can live eternally in our memories, that singing/listening joyful honors each other's presence showing others they are loved? 

Why don't we do this more often? 

It was the intersection of hospice choir volunteering and working as a church musician in December when I realized that visiting people and singing with/for them is not just for Christmas or the dying.  It is for all of us at all times.  And that's when Minestrone Minstrels was born. 

Minestrone Minstrels is a visitation ministry of singing and sharing a meal together.  I'll talk more about the meal sharing in a future entry (though if you need instant gratification visit Emily Scott's Sit & Eat blog for glimpses of my inspiration).  For now, I invite you to ponder how your community, be it congregation of baseball enthusiasts, gardeners, or faithful, can remember your elder and/or home bound members with time spent together. 

Caroling.  It's for everyone, everyday. 

Come together

May Day has been a day to celebrate the spring planting for centuries. And in more recent times it is, for much of the world, a day to gather and support the rights and fair treatment of workers. Today, I see these themes of community and beginnings magnify my own life story.

I have spent the majority of my waking hours the last four days with artists and healthcare professionals attending the Society for the Arts in Healthcare conference. I observed movement and color, listened to words and music that in some way set the stage for healing. I have listened to hours of research going on in the field. I have met people who are passionate about healing and how the arts play a role.

And I feel like I’ve found my people, a tribe heeding the call to use the arts to aid in the healing of others.

I had started a music therapy degree about 15 years ago, but shelved it when I felt my maturity as a musician and person were not ready. Experience is the classroom for maturity and so I worked and made music for a decade. Along the way I met amazing people who opened my eyes to different ways of being. And more recently found the strength, courage and faith to make the leap back into the healthcare field armed with a much different arsenal of musical tools than I would have imagined before. It’s like I finally graduated and ready to start that music career in healing and wellness. Or if I stay with the earlier farming reference, my seed is ready to be planted.

Stuart Pimsler Dance and Theater performed with Simone Perrin at the Closing Celebration. In the last dance we, the conference attendees, were invited to sing and waltz ...

“Come together, join in one place.
La-da dee-da-dum dee-da-dum dee-day.”

Like seasons of planting, growing, harvesting and rest, life contains similar cycles. Like communities with a common purpose, we circle round to witness each other. Come together indeed.

Tuning forks

It's been awhile since I've written an entry. Life has been busy and mine is no exception as I made a decision to leave an institution I had been with for 12 years. Why would I do such a thing in the economic climate that we are in? Well, it had more to do with the calling of my heart than security in money, homes or things.

A few years ago I was introduced to community singing in the aural tradition. No music reading ability needed as songs were taught by rote, line by line. Once we were secure in the 4-6 lines we were invited to sink deeply into beautiful poems and melodies and to play with harmonies in old spirituals. After so many years of singing in choirs and doing what the page and the director had in mind, I was ready to go out on a limb and try something new.

One of the first chants I learned was a blessing that many faith traditions call their own. It's pretty universal: When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so, that when you die the world cries and you rejoice. I don't know what was more influential, the words, the pseudo-Native American tune or the marriage of the two, but this song has become a personal tuning fork. Each time I sing it, it goes straight to my core and asks me: Are you living the life that will bring the most possible joy to the world? Like a tuning fork, singing it helps me remember my life's purpose and helps me recalibrate my actions so they resonate more fully, less dissonantly, with myself, with others.

So, I'm in the process of recalibrating my life. Over the last five years I have been releasing the hold certain activities had on my schedule and I just let go of the biggest one, a full-time job with benefits. What's next, my thoughtful and concerned friends ask? I'm hoping to develop more community development programs that incorporate singing and dancing. More details to come. J

Before I sign off, I want to ask you, dear reader and friend, what is your tuning fork? Is there a song or a painting or person in your life that has the effect of clearing the distractions and helps you focus on what's true in your world? Please feel free to share.

Music at the threshold

I once heard that people aren't afraid of death, they're afraid of going through the process of dying alone. Once upon a time birth and death were events where the community gathered round. What has changed?

Luckily, I don't have to answer why we've moved away from a community centered society and I can be part of a caring community who surround loved ones at important life stages. I am honored to be a member of a hospice choir in my metro area called Morning Star Singers. At the request of families we send a small handful of volunteers to sing songs of comfort to those nearing the end of this life.

This weekend we sang twice for Shirley. The first time we sang for her she was curled up with her back to the window and clenched fists. Her family was there with her. Our first song was about Holy Angels that were holding her. By the end of the song, her breathing was deeper. We sang 5 or 6 more songs and by the last of them she was gently snoring. Ah, peace.

Another group went to her bedside the next day and it was amazing to see the change from one day to the next. She was lying spread out on the bed with her hands relaxed and open. This was surprising to me as her family was not there. Even in her sleep she looked ready for the next step, whatever that was. Her breathing was steady. She didn't acknowledge our presence consciously, but I think she knew we were there - her upper lip flicked a few times. It may be inconsequential, but I took it as a "thank you."

What happened in 24 hours to affect this change? I don't think the songs in and of themselves did it, but together with a loving family surrounding her Shirley was getting herself ready.

Some of the songs we sang were Holy Angels (first line: you are held by ...), There are angels hovering round, Surrounding you, Children of the Heavenly Father, Sleep my child, Swing low, Like a ship in the harbor, and We cannot follow you. These songs are essentially lullabies. Sung softly and gently like a parent lulling a child from wakefulness to sleep we ease some of the anxiety and fear of dying with our presence.

I'm interested in collecting more songs that could be used at bedsides. Do know some? Contact me at pointsoflightmusic@gmail.com.

Blessings on your labors and your rest.