Lessons from a Marathon

I set out this morning for my daily walk in Riverside Park. As often is the case, I ended up meandering off my intended path, happily adrift in my thoughts.

Fortunately, you're never really lost in New York... all roads lead to somewhere interesting, and you generally return home better for the unexpected places you've been. The same is certainly true of life.

After picking up a bagel (I often get hungry during my wanderings), I strolled over to Central Park, where I found myself in the midst of the NYC marathon. I arrived just in time to watch the leaders in the wheelchair/handcycle division cross the finish line. To see men and women who've lost their legs or the ability to use them completing a 26-mile race is something I'll never forget. Neither will I forget the beauty on the faces and in the voices of those lining the course... people cheering on complete strangers as if they were family.

After a time, I started walking uptown through the park, pondering what I'd just experienced. The runners were coming soon, and I was eager to find a good spot to watch Paula Radcliffe pass by.

The sound of whistles and yells brought me back into the moment, and I glanced up to see, off in the distance, two racing cyclists coming down the street. As I was trying to figure out what they were doing on the course, my heart leapt in recognition as my mind put together the pieces in instant slow-motion:

...the cyclists were slightly ahead of and on either side of a handcyclist... the handcyclist was wearing sunglasses... the cyclists had whistles in their mouths... at each bend in the road, one would blast out a signal...

The man competing in the race, who had no legs, was also blind.

Just when I thought the day couldn't be any more inspiring, I was given one of the most powerful gifts I've ever received. Here was a man, who looked to be in his late 40s, without legs, without sight, racing in the one of the greatest, most challenging marathons in the world.

At that moment, I made three vows to myself: to never take a single moment for granted, to never forget how blessed I am, and to never complain about anything... ever, ever again.

I did see Paula Radcliffe run by, as well as the man and woman who ended up taking first place in the marathon. It was indeed a sight to behold. But for me, there was no competition... the real winner had already crossed the finish line.

The Reverent Vessel

I've recently been speaking to a man in England with a very interesting problem. Or better, a very common problem, caused by a very precious dynamic.

Many people I work with are wrestling with fears of rejection, failure, and success. These fears manifest in the body and voice, causing issues that on the surface seem entirely physical in nature.

This man in England, however is another matter. His fears are the same... of rejection, of failure, of success... but not for himself. Instead, he's worried that he is simply not good enough to express the gratitude he feels within his heart for life. He feels unworthy... not of the world or the audience, but rather, unworthy of music.

Oftentimes, I've found that reverent and searching souls are plagued by a pervasive sense of not being good enough. Never feeling adequately wise or worthy to teach, they often remain in the role of perpetual student, seeker and learner. In ways, they feel worthy enough to take, but not to give... a rather curious irony...

The reality though is that this man- and we all- are good enough to both give and receive. Not because of what we've done, or dream to do, but because we are, because we exist. And therefore- no better, no worse than anyone else- we have as much right to sing as we do to listen; to humbly give thanks, express our awe, and celebrate where we are and what we are experiencing in this moment with our breath and being.

Ambition, as you might imagine, is another issue for this man. He becomes very uncomfortable when people compliment him, not because he feels inadequate in his performance, but because he doesn't like the attention.

My advice was to him as is it to you... accept compliments like a wind that blows by you, touching your face for only an instant. They're not meant for you, anyhow. Your gift isn't the gift of the sound of your voice or your performance of the song that carried it, but rather, the place to which your voice has taken them, within themselves.

You are a vessel through which life touches the lives of others. Hold that idea for a moment... is there any more reverent- or worthy- purpose?

Chatting about Criticism

... excerpt from a recent email interaction with a friend and fellow voice coach…

JD: So tell me this then…do you think that there is ever a place for criticism? I really am curious to hear your take on it… the way I see it, the validity of praise is given profundity by one’s willingness to offer criticism… of course, I do have to be careful not to let myself criticize actions or objects in a way that my students or friends transfer it personally… but how do they know that I'm sincere in my compliments unless they know that there is a standard or measure?

jh: Do people have to know they're being criticized for it to be criticism?

JD: Ahhh… you're criticizing my statement, but you don't want me to know it! Clever! But seriously…

jh: Of course there is a place for criticism... I just wouldn't call it that. Criticism implies that where you are at this moment isn't enough, or good enough. I prefer the idea of refocusing, observing, and encouraging growth. Every place you are and have been deserves it's moment of appreciation and celebration before moving to where you want to go next. If you don't fully honor that space, positively seeing its- and your- strengths and weaknesses, you won't walk in confidence & assuredness to the next level.

To your point about a standard or measure… I don't think you need to criticize in order for people to know that your compliments are sincere. Do you need to tell your children that they’re wrong in order for them to believe you when you say they're right? Honesty trumps criticism. I believe sincerity conveys universally without the need for the expression or even recognition of duality. Does there have to be evil for there to be good? Do you have to show someone the depths of your cruelty for them to know the kind power of your love? I don't think so… you have to be honest, and have compassion. To speak with care, realizing that your words can be weapons of destruction or foundations upon which houses can be built. You can be both complimentary and constructively critical with the same kind voice…

JD: Perhaps then it can be valuable to criticize things or actions not necessarily associated with a particular individual…for instance…the Pinto is an ugly car… if I were to say that it were beautiful, you wouldn’t trust my judgment when I say that the Corvette is a beautiful car…

Now, if I know someone who owns and cherishes a Pinto, I think if I were to say that to them, they might transfer value from their car to themselves, so I would probably either refrain or refocus… hopefully…

jh: Is there anything that isn't associated with a particular individual? A corporation is made up of individuals who made that Pinto. And so, I think about who put their heart and soul into crafting that Pinto before making my point.

The real question is what is my point really about? How the car looks to me, someone who isn't driving it, and has no intention to buy it? I don't think it through to arrive at a less powerful, more comfortable point. But a more certain point, that benefits the person receiving the criticism more than it benefits me in any way for saying it.

I feel that is something people often miss with criticism… the goal. Is it more important for you to say how you feel? To be critical? To convey that you have a certain ability for discernment? Or that the person you're speaking with hears what you want to say? Or that they personally benefit from what you say?

One could say that much of this is really an argument in semantics. Still, as we’re a language driven culture, I’ll have that argument. Again, I think kindness can have a strong foundation, and that strength can have a kind one. And I’ll stand by that, whatever words you choose to explain or express it… showing singers their specific weaknesses and/or pointing out and criticizing what they do wrong won’t necessarily make them better. Building their confidence and painting a picture of where they can go next will.

Eve Teasing

Today's blog isn't about singing per se, but is still very much about the importance of being able to express ourselves freely, clearly and fearlessly. Enjoy!

An article in the New York Times this morning announced, in an effort to curb 'Eve Teasing', the advent of 8 commuter trains exclusively for women. Not in New York, but in India, where women are constantly subjected to pinching, groping, predatory staring and catcall shouting on their way to and from work. The government didn't enact a law requiring men to behave in a civil manner, or impose fines or punishment upon those who don't. It simply created a system of separate but equal, circumventing a demand for respect and decency.

While I don't find this to be the case on Manhattan subways, I'm sad to report that the article might very well have been talking about life on the streets of New York City. In truth, at least 5 times a day I am either glared at in a predatory manner, or shouted, whispered or sneered at with language that would make a grown man blush.

I'm not blushing however. I'm deeply concerned. And over the years, I've grown increasingly concerned by those who feel they have the right to a form of blatant disrespect and prejudice that, directed toward any other minority, would be an offense worthy of similar front page coverage in our nation's leading newspapers.

My concern has manifested in a variety of ways over the years. I've ignored the remarks and accompanying energy. I've tried to engage the men with compassion and even love, including starting conversations about how they would feel were their daughters, mothers or wives being addressed and treated in a similar fashion. I've given into anger, fantasizing about having a bb gun to shoot out the car tires of fools honking and screaming as they drive by, tongues wagging. I've creatively imagined being in possession of Harry Potter powers, anonymously zapping bolts of humiliation or empathy through the creeps who walk by making obscene noises, and from time to time, touching me.

But I don't have a gun or magical powers. Instead I– along with thousands of women and girls in the city– wear sunglasses to avoid eye contact and listen to iPods to silence the daily blows. We alter our wardrobes, lengthening our skirts while our confidence, ease, and comfort in the world threatens to loosen.

Though I shouldn't have to, I'd like to insert here for those who may be skeptical of my reports a few items: 1) These offenses rarely– if ever– occur when women are with men, so it may be hard for some of the latter to imagine that they actually happen. It seems indeed that there is a protocol of respect– or perhaps, fear– that enables predators to regulate their behavior. 2) These offenses occur whether I'm wearing a lovely dress, or sweatpants, a baggy t-shirt and a baseball cap. It seems that contrary to the opinion of some– that women bring this treatment on themselves– that sexual harassment is indeed an issue of power rather than one of sexuality. 3) These are offenses, and not feminist or angry misinterpretations of flattering or courteous gestures. Neither I, nor any woman, would take offense to a man or woman respectfully commenting on an attractive outfit, spirit, or appearance. What I am speaking of is entirely different, and entirely unacceptable.

I, like any man, woman or child, would like and should be able to walk 2 blocks to get a cup of coffee, dinner, or an ice cream without being treated in a disrespectful manner. Our society stands up against the heckling and harassment of elderly-Americans, homosexual-Americans, African-Americans, Asian-Americans or Hispanic-Americans. It's time to add female-Americans to that list.

A Cure for Anxiety

More often than people realize, psychological distress is caused by some combination of lack of meaning, lack of social engagement, and lack of spirituality. These and other existential issues aren't often discussed in Western therapies, but that doesn't make them any less real.

Also not discussed in Western therapies are the concepts of duality and non-attachment, social service as a means of transcending self-absorption, and the importance of mindfulness, meditation and yoga. We come from a culture that insists that to resolve our mental health problems, we need to focus on them- and ourselves- more. How do I feel? What do I need? What am I missing?

The answers are out there, if we're willing to listen, and looking in the right place. Recently, for me that place has been Eastern Philosophy, including Asia's two more prominent forms of psychotherapy, Morita and Naikan, both of which purport to offer complete psychological cure from fear, psychosomatic pain, perfectionism, anxiety and neurosis.

How do they do this? In the case of Naikan, the resolution of these issues comes from asking and answering three simple questions about the people in your life. These questions are:

what did that person do for me?
what did I do for that person in return?
what trouble and inconvenience did I cause that person?

As you probably noticed, not one of the questions is about ME. Both Naikan and Morita believe that relief from anxiety and malaise comes not from asking "what's in it for me" and "what have I not been given" but rather "what have I not given?"

It would be easy to dismiss Naikan as some Zen, optimistic ideal if it hadn't been proven in a series of studies to be as effective if not more than our own Western psychotherapies. Which means- get this- that the roots of anxiety may in fact be culturally created and empowered. Rather than an innate and inflexible response in all people to a host of life and family circumstances, anxiety may in fact be caused in large part by our conscious preference for self-focus, self-obsession, and self-absorption.

This is a hard pill to swallow- on a number of levels- for us Westerners… one that many people can't or don't want to stomach. The idea that all psychological unease can be resolved by an increase in gratitude and a decrease in victimhood is uncomfortable. Neither do Naikan and Morita seem, from our perspective, to take into account the anguish caused by physical and psychological abuse, or to hold the perpetrators responsible in any way, upping the discomfort level to infuriating...

Still, the next time you take a yoga class, go for a walk or sit before the majesty of the setting sun, consider quieting the litany of thoughts running through your head... your to-do list, your drama, your issues, your pain, and ask... first about your mother, then about your father... next about your siblings, then about your children... then about your friends, your colleagues, and your partner:

what did that person do for me?
what did I do for that person in return?
what trouble and inconvenience did I cause that person?

You don't have to be a believer in Naikan, Eastern Philosophy, or anything to feel your heart open and the tears stream down your face...

The Social Animal

We are lonely.

In New York City, where I live, I'm surrounded by people every day. On the street, on the subway, there's never a second when I'm not alone.

But there is a difference between being around people and really connecting with people. Physical proximity and social cyberspace aren't substitutes for relationship, and we as a culture are starting to feel the weight of that truth. It's part of the reason, in my opinion, that Starbucks has become the corporate and cultural giant it has. You can make coffee at home, but the community that Starbucks provides- a fundamental component of their mission statement, by the way- draws people in droves.

Still, we pick up our latte and sit alone with our computers, rather than talk to those around us. Or we go out to dinner with a friend or spouse sneaking glances at the people one table over, rather than saying hello and striking up a conversation.

The reality is, we are social animals. Just like dogs that sniff and roll around with each other as a means of introduction, we too long to get close and personal with each other. That's not to say we should start nuzzling strangers at cocktail parties, but we've gone to the other extreme, becoming isolationists in a social context.

In my practice, I've recently started suggesting social interaction along with personal introspection as a recipe for progress and growth. And it's working! Joining a choir, establishing a Friday morning coffee group, participating in a hiking club and volunteering are really making a difference in the lives of my clients.

It's not just benefitting them individually, but their marriages and partnerships as well. Without realizing it, our loneliness has caused us to expect too much from the one relationship we do consciously allow ourselves to look and long for. That bridge isn't built to carry that much weight though, so all too often it collapses under the pressure.

But when we recognize the difference between our relational needs and our foundational social needs, and fulfill them both via the proper channels, everyone thrives. Our lives become more rich, and we feel more fulfilled.

Not that that's going to stop me from going to Starbucks every morning... : )

Today

My recent travels into the technology-free country have taught me so much. I've recognized not only that I have a default addiction to 'checking in' via the many means that technology provides, but how much I've been missing by not consciously creating and allowing for moments of stillness and silence.

So many of us wake up and consider the day ahead based solely on the appointments, to-do lists and messages that flash out from our computers and blackberries, neglecting and therefore forgetting our spiritual, creative essence... our passion. Consider starting with a different focus... on the presence, caring and openness with which you hope to walk into the world. What a shift! A shift that allows everything you do... including errands and email... to become sacred.


TODAY
jh


I will go out now and call to the winds
To bring forth their joy
Dance under the rising sun
And celebrate the dawning of this new day.
I will wander her lands
And take in her splendor
Listening to her call,
Honoring her rhythms,
Obeying her timelessness.
I will feel, touch, taste, smell and see
All of the gifts she silently bestows
Upon the eager observer.
I will pursue the stillness of my mind
So that hers may become my guide;
Our minds becoming one, our wisdom uniting.
I will love all that I can,
Cherish this gift called life,
And revel in the endless possibilities
Of countless pleasures in all things great and small
In the wonder called...
TODAY.