Following a much-too-long break from updates, I'm back today with a short comment on...TUNING.
Currently, I'm in my 3rd quarter of grad school at UCSD, and one of my eight classes (yes, eight) is Singing. Now, anyone who knows me, or has seen me in a PHAMALY show, or knew me at East High or USC, or saw a Beatles show show in which I performed, or has simply been in a bathroom stall next to me, is likely aware of the fact that I'm a singer. I sing, and I love it. I sing all the time, every day, everywhere - in my car, in bathrooms, in hallways, on stages, etc. And, I enjoy singing WITH people even more so, largely because I love harmony.
Now, I speak of harmony here in the literal music sense - the harmony that is created when musical notes of specific frequencies line up with one another and create resonances, overtones, and other fancy products about which I might be able to speak more eloquently if I could still remember the my lessons from high school physics. Nevertheless, harmony...it's great.
And disharmony is a bitch. We've all experienced it in countless ways. A woeful music note that's slightly flat or sharp and not in tune with others - it grates one's ears. Or, in other areas of our lives, disharmony might present itself in the form of a fight with a friend; a difficult working relationship with a fellow actor, employee, volunteer, ____(fill in the blank); a story about someone or something despicable that doesn't fit into our optimistic worldview; the frustrating bullheadedness of politicians who can't agree on a national budget; or...you get the idea. There's disharmony everywhere. And it's frustrating.
For me, there have been moments in grad school when I experience disharmony, even when I sometimes can't put my finger on exactly what's out of sorts. Sometimes it's feeling out of sync with a fellow actor in a scene, or feeling like I can't quite get the essence of a character I'm playing. Sometimes it's related to my disability, and feeling like I'm living in a world that is built and structured around bodies that are completely different from my own...it's enough to make me want to burst. And it's cumulative...once ONE thing is out of harmony, suddenly it seems that everything else in the universe is upended as well.
I actually often address the universe directly when it happens, as my family knows. Example: I drop a hair brush, and in picking up the brush I cause my wheelchair to roll slightly, which makes it hit a wall, which causes the drink between my legs to spill, and of course it spills all over the book I had positioned on the other side of my lap...the very same book I had borrowed from a professor who said, "It's the most important book in my collection...please take care of it." I think, REALLY, UNIVERSE?!? REALLY?!?! By the way, this type of scenario happens more than I like to admit.
Anyhow, the point is, disharmony occurs. It's inevitable. And it's uncomfortable. You think of all of the vibrations and frequencies and bits of matter and energy that are flowing in, around, throughout, and between our bodies all the time (ooh, crossing into high school biology here, too), and disruption of it can be pretty awful (even in parts of us don't "feel" the same way, such as the parts of my body that are paralyzed...our bodies still experience it, and deal with ramifications of it.)
However, I was reminded in singing class the other day of the close proximity of disharmony and harmony. In music, it can be a simple microtone, or a fraction of a musical note, that throws an entire group of notes or singers out of whack. In our lives, it's often a much smaller step than we sometimes think to get ourselves out of the uncomfortable mess and muck and back into the sweet spot. And, just like in singing, once we are aware of where we are out of tune, we often have complete control of putting a chord - or ourselves and our lives and the world - back into harmony.
I'll share a quick story of another way in which I was reminded of the small distance between harmony and disharmony. Throughout this graduate acting program, I've come across numerous situations where my wheelchair has functioned as somewhat of a challenging element, throwing me out of harmony with the given circumstances. Once instance came up recently involving an activity in movement class. We often play a ball game that requires multiple skills including agility, strategy, speed, dexterity, maneuverability, and the ability to multitask with various body parts (e.g. run fast on quickly-changing trajectories while catching and throwing a ball). For numerous reasons (one being the fact that I have to use my hands in my mobility to push my wheelchair and cannot multitask with them as I move across the floor), the game was hard for me, and I was a pretty ineffective player. Not because I don't have the skills mentioned above, but because the context and combination in which they were required in the game didn't work for my situation. I didn't initially realize how much it started to make me feel pretty out of sync with my classmates, professor, and the class...I just thought I didn't love the game. However, after a particularly challenging session a couple of weeks ago, I realized what was going on, and acknowledged how crappily disharmonious it was making me feel. Once I was aware, I talked to my professor, and we came up with solutions that we presented to the class and attempted this week in the game. Ultimately, even though there was some hesitation expressed towards changing the game rules and structure, it ended up improving the game for everybody.
It served as a great reminder of how difficulties can often build up in our heads and become bigger than they are. If we're just honest with ourselves about a situation, then it's easier to realize that the necessary action for getting things back on track is often smaller than we expect. Have a conversation, make a couple changes, and voila! Getting back on the same frequency isn't so difficult.
This relates to a fascinating blog post our music professor sent us about the human frequency, and how it can be easily - and minutely - disrupted. The theory posits that Josef Goebbels manipulated the human frequency during World War II as a means of disrupting the entirety of humanity. - definitely worth a read:http://www.elephantjournal.com/2011/02/the-human-body-is-tuned-to-musical-vibrations/
So, the point is this: yes, we get out of harmony. But getting back into harmony doesn't actually require as big a shift as we might think. And, the shift back into harmony is WORTH it, even if it requires a small sacrifice.
There's a reason people like me love singing, and music, and musical harmony. It puts us IN TUNE - literally - with other humans, and with the world. And, one of the joyous discoveries I've made is that an injury like the one I had - a spinal cord injury that left me paralyzed - may have the power to disrupt a life, or a body, and throw it into disharmony for a bit. But, ultimately, I believe that the inexplicable force that tends us toward harmony with other living beings - and with ourselves - is too powerful. Things will right, if we just pay attention, and perhaps make a few minor adjustments here and there. And even a body that's paralyzed, or injured, or ailing, or hurting, or different in some way, doesn't lose the ability to achieve some measure of harmony and stasis.
Even when I can't explain it, I know what I feel when I sing, particularly when I harmonize with other people. It's the sweet spot of joy, intensity, soul, depth, and it pulses and tingles throughout my entire body, even the parts I can't "feel." It's a rush, and it reminds me that my legs, my feet, my toes, my hips, my stomach are all still alive and bursting with energy and possibility. They might just be on a slightly different wavelength for the time being.
Moral: Keep singing. Tune in. And if you feel out of tune, know that it's just a baby step to get right back into that sweet spot of harmony.
And just in case you haven't seen it (from Playing for Change)...a reminder that you can even be in harmony with people half a world away. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xjPODksI08&feature=relmfu
Currently, I'm in my 3rd quarter of grad school at UCSD, and one of my eight classes (yes, eight) is Singing. Now, anyone who knows me, or has seen me in a PHAMALY show, or knew me at East High or USC, or saw a Beatles show show in which I performed, or has simply been in a bathroom stall next to me, is likely aware of the fact that I'm a singer. I sing, and I love it. I sing all the time, every day, everywhere - in my car, in bathrooms, in hallways, on stages, etc. And, I enjoy singing WITH people even more so, largely because I love harmony.
Now, I speak of harmony here in the literal music sense - the harmony that is created when musical notes of specific frequencies line up with one another and create resonances, overtones, and other fancy products about which I might be able to speak more eloquently if I could still remember the my lessons from high school physics. Nevertheless, harmony...it's great.
And disharmony is a bitch. We've all experienced it in countless ways. A woeful music note that's slightly flat or sharp and not in tune with others - it grates one's ears. Or, in other areas of our lives, disharmony might present itself in the form of a fight with a friend; a difficult working relationship with a fellow actor, employee, volunteer, ____(fill in the blank); a story about someone or something despicable that doesn't fit into our optimistic worldview; the frustrating bullheadedness of politicians who can't agree on a national budget; or...you get the idea. There's disharmony everywhere. And it's frustrating.
For me, there have been moments in grad school when I experience disharmony, even when I sometimes can't put my finger on exactly what's out of sorts. Sometimes it's feeling out of sync with a fellow actor in a scene, or feeling like I can't quite get the essence of a character I'm playing. Sometimes it's related to my disability, and feeling like I'm living in a world that is built and structured around bodies that are completely different from my own...it's enough to make me want to burst. And it's cumulative...once ONE thing is out of harmony, suddenly it seems that everything else in the universe is upended as well.
I actually often address the universe directly when it happens, as my family knows. Example: I drop a hair brush, and in picking up the brush I cause my wheelchair to roll slightly, which makes it hit a wall, which causes the drink between my legs to spill, and of course it spills all over the book I had positioned on the other side of my lap...the very same book I had borrowed from a professor who said, "It's the most important book in my collection...please take care of it." I think, REALLY, UNIVERSE?!? REALLY?!?! By the way, this type of scenario happens more than I like to admit.
Anyhow, the point is, disharmony occurs. It's inevitable. And it's uncomfortable. You think of all of the vibrations and frequencies and bits of matter and energy that are flowing in, around, throughout, and between our bodies all the time (ooh, crossing into high school biology here, too), and disruption of it can be pretty awful (even in parts of us don't "feel" the same way, such as the parts of my body that are paralyzed...our bodies still experience it, and deal with ramifications of it.)
However, I was reminded in singing class the other day of the close proximity of disharmony and harmony. In music, it can be a simple microtone, or a fraction of a musical note, that throws an entire group of notes or singers out of whack. In our lives, it's often a much smaller step than we sometimes think to get ourselves out of the uncomfortable mess and muck and back into the sweet spot. And, just like in singing, once we are aware of where we are out of tune, we often have complete control of putting a chord - or ourselves and our lives and the world - back into harmony.
I'll share a quick story of another way in which I was reminded of the small distance between harmony and disharmony. Throughout this graduate acting program, I've come across numerous situations where my wheelchair has functioned as somewhat of a challenging element, throwing me out of harmony with the given circumstances. Once instance came up recently involving an activity in movement class. We often play a ball game that requires multiple skills including agility, strategy, speed, dexterity, maneuverability, and the ability to multitask with various body parts (e.g. run fast on quickly-changing trajectories while catching and throwing a ball). For numerous reasons (one being the fact that I have to use my hands in my mobility to push my wheelchair and cannot multitask with them as I move across the floor), the game was hard for me, and I was a pretty ineffective player. Not because I don't have the skills mentioned above, but because the context and combination in which they were required in the game didn't work for my situation. I didn't initially realize how much it started to make me feel pretty out of sync with my classmates, professor, and the class...I just thought I didn't love the game. However, after a particularly challenging session a couple of weeks ago, I realized what was going on, and acknowledged how crappily disharmonious it was making me feel. Once I was aware, I talked to my professor, and we came up with solutions that we presented to the class and attempted this week in the game. Ultimately, even though there was some hesitation expressed towards changing the game rules and structure, it ended up improving the game for everybody.
It served as a great reminder of how difficulties can often build up in our heads and become bigger than they are. If we're just honest with ourselves about a situation, then it's easier to realize that the necessary action for getting things back on track is often smaller than we expect. Have a conversation, make a couple changes, and voila! Getting back on the same frequency isn't so difficult.
This relates to a fascinating blog post our music professor sent us about the human frequency, and how it can be easily - and minutely - disrupted. The theory posits that Josef Goebbels manipulated the human frequency during World War II as a means of disrupting the entirety of humanity. - definitely worth a read:http://www.elephantjournal.com/2011/02/the-human-body-is-tuned-to-musical-vibrations/
So, the point is this: yes, we get out of harmony. But getting back into harmony doesn't actually require as big a shift as we might think. And, the shift back into harmony is WORTH it, even if it requires a small sacrifice.
There's a reason people like me love singing, and music, and musical harmony. It puts us IN TUNE - literally - with other humans, and with the world. And, one of the joyous discoveries I've made is that an injury like the one I had - a spinal cord injury that left me paralyzed - may have the power to disrupt a life, or a body, and throw it into disharmony for a bit. But, ultimately, I believe that the inexplicable force that tends us toward harmony with other living beings - and with ourselves - is too powerful. Things will right, if we just pay attention, and perhaps make a few minor adjustments here and there. And even a body that's paralyzed, or injured, or ailing, or hurting, or different in some way, doesn't lose the ability to achieve some measure of harmony and stasis.
Even when I can't explain it, I know what I feel when I sing, particularly when I harmonize with other people. It's the sweet spot of joy, intensity, soul, depth, and it pulses and tingles throughout my entire body, even the parts I can't "feel." It's a rush, and it reminds me that my legs, my feet, my toes, my hips, my stomach are all still alive and bursting with energy and possibility. They might just be on a slightly different wavelength for the time being.
Moral: Keep singing. Tune in. And if you feel out of tune, know that it's just a baby step to get right back into that sweet spot of harmony.
And just in case you haven't seen it (from Playing for Change)...a reminder that you can even be in harmony with people half a world away. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xjPODksI08&feature=relmfu
