In these turbulent, chaotic times, we often wonder what can be done? Perhaps take a stronger stance, exert our rights more loudly, tweet profanity at what we do not like?
Or hum?
Recently, I attended a meditative yoga class at a little yoga studio I rarely visit due to its location in the suburbs of Detroit where my daughter and her family live, about an hour drive from home. While visiting my daughter last week, she suggested we attend an evening class that sounded interesting and I jumped at the chance for a break from our hectic, fast paced day with my adorable two year old grand-baby.
That evening, upon arriving at the yoga studio, we entered a low lit room with brightly painted walls and began setting up our yoga mats with blocks and an assortment of other props. Soon the instructor and a musician took their place at the front of the long, narrow room. Behind them stood an altar with flickering candles, prayer beads, and numerous photographs of eastern gurus serenely staring back at us.
After a series of slow deep stretches with a handful of other yogis and yoginis, we prepared for meditation by sitting cross legged on our mats with eyes closed. While one instructor played an instrument popular in both India and the west called a Harmonium, a type of tabletop size organ with bellows, a second instructor softly guided us through deep breathing exercises followed by a period of sustained humming.
Yes, humming.
We followed instructions to begin "humming like bees" and were encouraged to be playful in our discovery of different octaves and tones. Moving up and down the scales, it took me a few minutes of experimenting to find my "perfect pitch" - the one I could sustain without much effort. I noticed how my humming floated in and out and combined with the other vibrating notes in a soothing, harmonious euphony of sound that pleasantly moved through my body as it filled the room.
Our collective humming was a balm to my nervous system. I did not want to stop. Soon however, when the bell rang, our voices were replaced by a sparkling silence in which the reverberations of each unique hum rested. We sat for several minutes soaking it all in.
Not wanting to disturb the effects of our practice, my daughter and I remained silent as we rolled up our mats, put away the props and walked back out to the car. Who would have guessed something as simple as humming in unison with other like-minded hummers, could create so much peace and tranquility. We savored the quiet drive home under the twinkling stars. And as we wet off to bed that night, we smiled, hugged and whispered "good night".
