D E E P L I S T E N I N G
MY 94-year-old grandmother recently fell ill with pneumonia, shortly after suffering a fall at home.
She was hospitalised and I flew to New Zealand to be with her.
While lying in the hospital bed beside her, I put my headphones in her big old ears and played Avishai Barnatan’s album Ark of Dreams.
Her face immediately softened at the sound of the Buddha bowls, chimes, birds and running water. She exhaled, and dropped in.
My grandmother – my mother’s mother - was a second mother to me growing up.
In my youth I’d often make Granny Rose mixed tapes and CDs. She loved REM, Badly Drawn Boy, and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.
Since I have been living in Australia for the last eight years, she has been far less exposed to music, mostly reading, writing and meditating. My most recent visit to see her in hospital was the first time in so many years she’d dedicated an entire hour to music.
While ensconced in the melodies and soundscapes of Israeli-born musician Avishai Barnatan’s album, Granny Rose talked to herself.
“I like that, it’s a special place,” she says as Spring of Life begins.
“There’s water, and lots of colour… There are birds there; that’s a children’s and animals place… An Aboriginal place… an outside place. Once you were there, you’d never want to leave,” she says.
My grandmother knows nothing of Avishai, but what I love about her descriptors is that she does not hear his music, but rather is transported to a different dimension; beyond the confines of the hospital to a whole new world.
Throughout my pre-teens and into the winter of my 30s, I have loved the feeling of music. It fills the spaces that would otherwise be taken up by my thoughts of past and future. In music I am present.
Avishai began an affair with Australia 30 years ago. His partner is Australian. The pair live in the Byron Bay area in northern New South Wales.
“It was obvious for us that we’d settle in the Byron Shire. It is beautiful, with a large international community and it was a great place for the kids to grow up,” he says.
Avishai’s sound is other-worldly. I imagine he is a peaceful alien who is visiting Earth and has fallen in love with Her natural beauty and magic.
“My music is definitely inspired by the natural elements, natures cycles and the universal principals of harmony,” he says.
“My intention when creating or playing music in the healing environment is to inspire a sense of connection to everything as well as an opportunity to transcend the daily struggles and connect with the Eternal and Infinite source.”
As with the days of deep listening and silent meditation I experienced at Goenkaji’s Vipassana 10-day course, I have found that good music has the power to transcend my thinking mind and bring about an expanded state of consciousness.
Avishai uses Tibetan bowls, chimes, flutes and vocal harmonies in his Soundshower and Vocal Toning Workshops.
During the “shower”, participants lie on their backs for the entire experience as different instruments are carried around the room and sometimes placed physically on the body.
Avishai first heard about “sound healing” during his first Australian visit in 1990.
“It started with reading about the healing power of sound and continued with an exploration ever since, during which I tried and collected different instruments that would support my work,” he says.
“I also started playing the flute around the same time and my understanding of music and journey as a musician developed side by side with the healing work.”
During Avishai’s Interactive Vocal Workshop, which is separate to the Soundshower, he teaches simple vocal toning exercises for self-healing.
He says “toning” has a neurochemical effect on the body causing a release of endorphins.
This statement resonates with me, as I find singing has an effect on my body and mind, whether in the car, shower or at a concert.
On an individual and personal level, Avishai says the sound healing work has brought a more grounded, centred and purposeful element to his life.
“It has taught me to listen more deeply and has helped me navigate through difficulties.”
He says the voice work, which he shares in the workshop, has helped him break through personal challenges, get more “in tune” and confident to be able to share what he has to offer.
As a yoga student and teacher, I am interested in Nada Yoga – the yoga of deep listening.
The Sanskrit word “Nadi” means river or stream. It also means rushing or sounding. Nadis are said to be the subtle channels through which consciousness flows.
There are many references to Nada Yoga in the Hatha Yoga Pradipika – a classic 15th Century Yoga text written in Sanskrit.
In Sharon Gannon and David Life’s book Jivamukti Yoga, they describe the mind in a trance, as notes come together creating a “mood”.
They say to begin the practice of Nada Yoga, we must draw the senses inward and shut out external sights by closing the eyes or blindfolding ourselves.
Unlike vision which is linear and easily fooled like optical illusions, the parallel expression of acoustical illusion does not exist.
“We hear before we are born and we continue to hear after death,” says Gannon and Life.
“When we are dying, the sense of smell goes first, then taste, then sight, and then touch. But hearing remains long after death.”
Appreciating good modern music helps me to refine my listening ability.
During my physical yoga practice I put my energy into the development of my ears rather than my eyes.
I face away from the mirror, turn the drishti (gaze) inward, and listen as I practice.
If I allow myself to feel the music, as my grandmother did in her hospital bed, I become God.
Avishai Barnatan: Soundshower, The Yoga Hive Southside, 119 Kembla Street, Wollongong, Fri, 1 Nov, 6-7:30pm
Eventbrite Ticket: https://bit.ly/2L3bPD1
The Interactive Vocal Workshop, The Yoga Hive Northside, 479 Princes Highway, Woonona, Sun, 3 Nov, 10am-2pm.
Eventbrite Ticket: https://bit.ly/2L6Yny2
For those attending: wear comfortable clothes, preferably bright or white colours, bring a mat, cushion and light blanket.
