The Power of Song

 I didn't grow up in a singing family. My mother was told when she was in school that she should not sing, for she couldn't carry a tune! So sad. But my father was often whistling or humming. He was the musical parent, and he had an accordion in the attic. Sometimes his little children (including me) would beg him to bring it down, and we'd sit around him while he played dance tunes. Even though we didn't sing at home, I loved my music class at school. Our music books were full of wonderful songs, and I was always asking to sing some of my favorites. Our school also had a marching band, and we could choose an instrument and get lessons. I chose the saxophone. I was looking forward to marching with my sax when I got a little older, but in the meantime my little brother was born. He was one of those babies who cried a lot and his naps were a treasure. The last thing my mom needed was a daughter practicing a loud saxophone! So I returned the sax, and settled for taking piano lessons.

When I grew up, songs became a daily part of my life for 15 years when I became a partner in a songbook publishing business. This was back in the days before computers, and my work time was full of creating music on a music typewriter, preparing songs for publication, writing to copyright holders to get permission to use songs, arranging the songs into booklets, and organizing crews to sit alongside the stapling machine, putting those booklets together. We had a huge "song pool" from which organizations could choose the songs that they wanted in their own songbooks. It was fun to be so connected to music. I also sang in various choruses and specialized groups, and eventually I began to organize song circles for my community. So looking back, singing has always held a big part in my life.

Now that I am technically retired, my life is not so full of responsibilities (though sometimes it seems too much still!). And I'm finding that as we age, we can pull back a bit from the present activities and see things from a larger perspective. That's one of the nice things about growing older! Nice to have all the physical handicaps of aging be balanced by some welcome changes! And what I've noticed lately is what kind of effects song and singing have on people. You take a poem, set it to music with melody and rhythm, and it affects us very differently than if someone just spoke the words. Probably that is because it is our right brain that is responding, our more intuitive and artistic side rather than our intellect. Whatever the reason, songs are powerful. And singing together with other people is even more so.

Each morning, before I start my day, I go into my office and look at email. Always there are a number of posts about the current political situation. And each day I decide whether I have the gumption to read them, or just delete them for that day. It's about half and half. And when I do summon the courage to read these updates on the shocking developments in the government, I've found the perfect way of helping me deal with them. I listen to Pete Seeger. I have many of his CD's, long sitting unused on the shelf but now called into active service. It's as if he's actually in the room with me, standing tall, gathering us together, showing us how to be strong, to speak up for our values, to not be afraid. I met Pete a couple of times, and in my songbook business days, I arranged to print many of his songs. But what I'm noticing now is how powerful they are when we are in times like the present. Times when the governing body seems to be going crazy, when ordinary people are being run over and the work of decades is being trashed for no intelligent reason. Instead of cowering in shock, shaking our heads in dismay, and wondering how our country is going to survive, the many recordings that Pete Seeger made in the last 50 years can pull us together in strength. "We shall overcome....."

I was sitting in the endodontist's office yesterday, waiting for a root canal. I had to wait more than an hour before it was my turn to go into the dentist's chair, and then after the x-rays, I had to wait half an hour more. Usually those waits would be a bit grueling, knowing you were in for some definite discomfort soon. But I found myself feeling happy, and I realized that was because in the background there was music in all the rooms of that big office. It was soft music, quiet enough so you almost didn't notice it until your feet started tapping to the rhythm of the songs. Sitting there, my thoughts were lulled by the music, and my mood was upbeat. It was only when I thought about that a bit that I realized it was because of that subtle music in the background. It pulled me out of my worried brain (it's going to hurt) and into a different space. 

It is one thing to have the benefit of listening to music. And when you take it to the next step, actually making music, it pulls you deeper into a transformative experience. Then, if you are making music together instead of alone, you take your place in a larger entity all working together to the same rhythm. Listening to Pete's CDs lately, I notice how he will begin a song and teach the chorus. Especially if the song is about something that affects everyone there, the choruses become more and more rousing. The energy grows. The optimism grows. And the end effect is a sense that together we can make a positive difference. And together we need not be alone. Together we can get things done and hold each other in safety. 

I am fortunate enough to be part of our Prairie Hill ukulele group which meets every Sunday in the common house. Most of us are relatively new to the ukulele, but it's a pretty easy instrument and most of the songs we play have a limited number of chords needed. Right now we're practicing for a performance at the Longfellow neighborhood front porch music festival. We're definitely amateurs, but we're getting pretty good with the the pieces we've chosen. A week ago, I'd had a huge weekend and by Sunday afternoon at 5:00 (the uke group meeting time), I was exhausted. I didn't want to miss the gathering, and I sat down around the table where all the others were tuning up their ukes and getting ready to begin. I laid my ukelele down on the table and realized I was too tired to participate, so I just sat in my chair, not playing and not singing, but right in the middle of the music. I thought I'd feel guilty for not joining in, and I wondered if I should just go home (which is only a few steps away). But I just sat there, with the music flowing around me. And it was wonderful. Healing. Uplifting. Wow! So here was another experience: I was in the middle of the music but not creating it. And it was very special.

It's good to have a regular opportunity to make music together. A friend and I started a Song Circle years ago, and we met at our family farmhouse every month when I still lived on the farm. Now that song circle still happens at Scattergood Friends School, about 20 minutes from Iowa City. It's still going strong, and I go when I can. It is happening this month (September) on Sunday, the 21st, and it's open to anyone and everyone. For you local folks, it might be a good chance to experience again the power of song.