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So many thoughts. I did a lot of Shivanata throughout the day. Threw in the odd move into dance, while waiting for the kettle to boil and while cleaning.

And then went to this.. voice circle.

And for the first time in possibly ever, I felt afraid to sing at all. I didn’t trust my voice.

Even humming was too much. Considering that I still sang to myself when in hospital with swollen tonsils, this fear was very new.


I’m that girl who sings along to her mp3 player whether she can do so in tune or not. Who only strengthens her resolve when people walk past. I sing, growl, chant or whisper along with it and don’t care.

Today, we sat in a circle and chanted – and it was all fine. There was a chance to harmonise. And then something snapped and I withdrew.

I was suddenly so mindful of how good the voices either side of me were. Of the two women opposite me in the circle. How the shy ones could sing louder now.

I was so proud of them.

And yet, part of me shrank.

The V-Formation Room

What I could have done to improve this, was let a stronger facet of myself  take over from the fearful me, instead sending her  to the safe room.

This basically means in my flock of birds, I had the fearful self at the front of the V formation and I needed one of my more sovereign/stronger-at-that-moment/knows-how-to-step-back selves to volunteer to take her place.

I stopped singing. My voice lowered on a hum. And then that ceased.

The woman next to me looked towards me. I’d been singing fine until now.

And then it was my turn to sit in the middle. We could sing, hum or be silent and just receive.

I sat in quiet. And felt the power of the circles energy.

The Shape & Space of Safety

I could have done with my room. So I’m here now. It’s got rounded walls-  no corners for things to hide behind. They’re soundproof too. The door has a curtain across it. Food and drink gets put in a little letterbox I can reach from inside here. I have a computer to write this on. I have music to sing to and so many books to cradle me in other worlds.

There are all kinds of coloured grasses in pots. Black grass, yellow and green. And bluebells.

There’s a massive bed which lets me sleep in peace and a comfy sofa to lounge on with my books or art/writing materials.

And then I found this little analytical voice who explained it all and let me know it was all allowed.


– “… there isn’t any way to screw this up because it’s all an experiment …”
* It may not feel pleasurable, but it’s important. It’s a clearing, a lesson. It’s all just practise.
– This may not be for you.
* You can sing.
– Take your time to work through this.

I’m not sure quite where the lines overlap but it’s something to keep an eye on. I’m singing as I type this, perfectly fine again. But something’s shifted and it’s not entirely comfortable. I’m letting it rest within me.

Anyone else had an experience like this?

In light,