"Voice Rehab"

"The wound is the place where the light enters" Rumi

I saw an old friend last night who had been seeing the limitations of themselves in relation to their injury. We do this. We limit ourselves. What happens when we are no longer able to do the things we were doing effortlessly and pain-free before? How can we not be hard on ourselves or punish ourselves, or as my lovely friend Sara says 'let ourselves off the hook'. Why is injury judged and what makes one judge it?

I had an accident back in June, and suffered whiplash (not for the first time either), with ongoing treatment being required. How may we work ourselves out of an injury? So many questions spring to mind. Is it easier if we have a high level of technical knowledge pre injury? Does it make it harder or easier if we have awareness about what is happening to us?  Where does our fear sit when we have an injury? Do we go into fear at all or is it all encompassing? If we know more what might go wrong, how difficult is it to surrender and allow healing and recovery to take place? How can we move out of the emotions that might be overwhelming, and move to a place of acceptance? What we know is that when we focus our intention upon the present and plan for the future that lies ahead, with all its unknown qualities, it leads to an easier path.

As a Speech Pathologist, my role is mulitfarious in terms of recovering the injured voice.  I create structures and guidelines (often quite strict) for my clients in order for them to rehabilitate vocally. Not to whisper, shout, sing, or in some instances talk much at all, depending upon the injury or infection. It is a big ask for someone to stop speaking, or at least, speaking as much as they used to. To stop singing, even for a short time, can feel as if someone is asking them to be one handed. Often as an explanation, in our voice clinic, we use the analogy of a vocal athlete. It is a wonderful analogy, so much so I created a business from this model www.vocalathletics.com Singers and other professional voice users are our vocal athletes. The opera singer sings a marathon night after night. (Wagner may be a double marathon!) But so is the local school teacher who runs the equivalent of 25km a day!

We usually don't think twice about an AFL footballer or elite sportsperson doing a "corky" or a "hammy" or sustaining an injury, especially at the elite level. In some ways we almost expect that this might happen. Post injury, these sport players get elite and frequent rehabilitation.The media reports on it (as a general rule) without punishment or blame and gives regular updates on how players are recovering. Not so, it seems, with elite singers. The recent surgeries of the likes of Adele and John Mayer received less coverage. We don't know who their surgeons were (unless we look extensively on the web), or what their rehabilitation was like. I could not find out who their Speech Pathologists were. It seems enshrouded in secrecy, as if these voice difficulties are best hidden. At the other extreme, such as in the case of Julie Andrews, negative publicity was generated because of her poor voice outcome. She later teamed up with those same surgeons in an effort to promote their work and raise awareness of these issues surrounding the voice.

Most of my clients, particularly those from the media or international/national singers do not want to be known to have had "Speech/ voice therapy". Obviously,  I respect their privacy fully, as it seems that they feel that they too may be judged from this. If they had a personal trainer to get a great physique, we would know about it, I am sure.

I speak highly on both a personal and professional level of the amazing specialist voice physio Annie Strauch of Performance Medicine Physiotherapy. A sports physio for the vocal athlete! Is neck tension and a tired larynx something to be ashamed of? I do not always think so, especially if our technique is good. Is it because they think they have done something wrong? Does an AFL player blame themself for their injury(ies)?  I do hope that this attitude is one that will change in future years, and that voice rehabilitation is not something to b ashamed of. The more awareness we have of the voice and how we can look after it well, the better, in my opinion. We are not flawless human beings with flawless medical histories.

So. look after your precious voice: "You don't know what you've got till its gone...they paved paradise and put up a parking lot" Joni Mitchell

With voice injuries, I always suggest that a sound structure goes a long way- an email outlining what has been happening (usually a set of 3-4 varied emails depending upon who the recipients are) as well as a voice message on phones (recorded by them or somebody else) that suggests an sms or email is the preferred as a way of contacting them whilst they are having difficulty. This does help to take some of the pressure off the repetitive nature of retelling the story and the injury. Could we imagine the person with the "hammy" standing up and re-enacting the dreaded scene and showing us the same pose that they were in when they were injured. No. No, I think not. Yet the voice is perceived as different. It is of course, and yet also needs some of the same treatment.  

In terms of "real life", others judgement and concern certainly happens quickly. The questions usually come when they least want them; scuttling out to get milk and the cashier says- "oh, what is wrong with your voice, you should really get that checked out. You sound dreadful". Or friends who are wanting to be supportive and want to talk all the time with them. How do we say what is in our hearts when we are not able to use our speaking voice? How can we do it especially if we have not addressed the important emotional aspects of the recovery. What if we want to cry or yell in frustration every time we go to open our mouths? Can we do our job silently? Do we have 10 jobs that we are juggling? How do we make money? Most jobs these days require that we use our voice. Would you be able to perform your job duties if you had to be minimally speaking? How do we find that elusive patience and mindfulness in the midst of this process to really know it is a process and not focus on the immediate outcome. So many questions also means that people feel that their lives are no longer in their control, and it is an interesting and sometimes unfamiliar place to be.

Voice rest is a controversial issue currently. How long should we not make sound for if we have had an injury (or lost the voice?) What if we misused it on a night out and sang too much karaoke? How much rest would we need then? There are many factors for us to consider, and it is usually recommended on an individual basis. And for those for whom surgery is indicated, how long post surgery should one be completely silent for? As yet, we do not have the definitive answers according to the evidence, however it is becoming clearer as time and research continues. A Speech Pathologist and a Specialist ENT have some up to date answers on this. Unfortunately I have seen too many people who were advised voice rest (of up to one month) with no follow up specialist referral when they had a serious injury. Time lost in the most important part of the process, so that recovery can occur in a timely manner. 

And as my Nan used to say "A stitch in time saves nine." So if you are not sure about your voice, and it has been niggling at times, or you have had unexplained voice loss, croakiness, soreness and trouble talking perhaps it is a wise choice to book in with someone who knows. And I mean really knows. Not the "my friend who is an occasional singer told me that......" An excellent voice coach or a Speech Pathologist who has extensive experience with voice is a good place to start. We may think we have excellent vocal technique, however sometimes this is far from the truth. And our voices are important to us. Often only found out when it gives us trouble. We also can learn from when it is not feeling good. We can then take steps to care for it. and find the easier path to great and fabulous "shibumi" voicing!

Flow- in staying out of our own way...

“If I can get out of my own way,

If I can be pure enough,

If I can be selfless enough

And if I can be generous and loving and caring enough

To abandon what I have and my own

Preconceived silly notions of what I think I am

And become truly who in fact I am

Which is really just a child of the Universe

Then the music/sound/voice/flow/movements can really use me

And here lies my fulfilment

That’s where the flow starts to happen”

J.McLaughlin



This was my personal objective/mantra/aim for the concert on Sunday.....How to stay out of my own way. It was a feat. A triumph on a deeply personal level. It was a true testament to my mental, emotional and physical wellbeing as well as a deep trust in all that is. From all accounts it was a success. I received beautiful feedback, and it felt good.


Using all the strategies I speak of with my clients, I entered into the space calm, with minimal adrenaline, resting more with the nestles of the parasympathetic nervous system than in the popularised pep up of "go get 'em". I know I felt deeply connected to all that was around me, and felt definitively in the zone. I was connected to the breath, and to myself. I did not abandon myself once. I allowed myself to rest fully with my psyche, and the space I was residing in. The inner critic did not rear its ugly head, and the weight of judgement was nowhere to be seen within my heart. In that moment, I was completely blissed out, in love with all that was.


In this space, I know I could have resided for ever.

Thanks to all who came and supported me throughout my process. xx

Caves: echoes of the past

“For echo is the soul of the voice exciting itself in hollow places.” 

                                   ― Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

The Newdegate Cave at Hastings  was glorious. Cheeky, and filled with a lightness that desired interplay. Many small chambers that resonated with a gloriousness remnant of some of the best cathedrals in the world. A long acoustic. Longing to be sung in. A symphony of sorts...

Newdegate Cave, Hastings Tasmania

So it was with a great appreciation that I had been largely on my own whilst I have sung and explored these caves. The sense of stillness is deeply satisfying. There is something again about residing in the silence, and then making sounds from the ethereal heavens which seems to open up hidden places. 

I was reminded again that I had been to many caves before this year. I went to Sung Sot Cave whilst I was in Vietnam several years ago. My memory of this time was that it felt unstable, and that there were literally thousands of tourists who were traipsing through with little respect for the cave. It had been said many people had taken pieces of the cave and touched much. What i witnessed was this lack of respect for the natural formations. In Australia, and in particular Tasmania, it seems that we are lucky that there is still so much that remains pristine.

Gunns Plains Cave, Tasmania

In Gunns Plains Cave, there was a moment, when the lights were switched off. And the gurgle of the flowing water through the cave was all one could hear. If there was a sound of amniotic fluid, and a recording of this, I imagine that they would be so similar. I was moved to silent tears. A sense of being soothed and safe in the dark. Delicious. Where time stands still. And in that moment I could have stayed there forever. A sign of the divine. Timelessness pervades deeply.

Geoff, the guide spoke of how he is often rejuvenated after a walk through the cave. Going in tired, with aches and ills, and coming out the other side, in a sense reborn with newfound vigour and delight. This was a theme amongst the guides all stating that they always felt better after tours than before. My body felt more energised after being in the caves, and I found my sleep to be deep and strong after such days. 

They do concerts in the cave. This seems to be a new, cool thing to do. It seems the cave energy can now support a new level of sound. Using the cave, and using sound to make the vibration of the cave change. I mean it has been there for over 440 million years. Since the ice age. How amazing is that? And lest we disturb it with our travels, our ramblings, and using sticks on columns to make sound( a little like playing the organ of bones in the Goonies) hopefully it can be preserved for many more years to come.

Cave experiences may not be for everyone, but it seems that once we have tried it, it fits like a comfortable shoe. Picasso describes his creativity as the "descent into caves of initiation and secret knowledge" One woman on a guided trip exclaimed a fearful "OOOH" when it went dark, yet was the first to say "I could have stayed there forever" once the lights were turned back on. Delightful. That seems to be the transformation and residing in process.

Metaphorical language of the caves.

*They caved into their cravings
 *My throat/heart/will caved in"
*Like a child in a magic cave"
*Aladdin's cave

Metaphorical language of caves then reminds me of the breath...

*our first breath

*he took my breath away

*he gasped in fright

*our dying breath

*he was a breath of fresh air
*I walked on air

Newdegate Cave, Hastings

If you know any others, I would love your comments....

Laughing with the guests

"This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival;
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and attend them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows
who violently sweep your house empty of furniture,
still, treat each guest honourable.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the same, the shame, the malice,
meet them all at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each guest has been sent as a guide from beyond"

Rumi, The Guest House

It can be particularly difficult to stand in our house and laugh at what befalls us. I see around me at the moment many who are struggling. Perhaps it is again that time of year where many are tired, coming out of a long winter and not yet past Christmas lunch. There isn't much laughter at times.

When we have these happenings, often there is only resistance: No breath, stuck jaw, tight throat, tight heart. No flow, no movement. Only stagnation. Often I find that I get stuck. One way I have recently enjoyed getting out of some "stuck" is by negative practice. It works. Ok I am going to think about pink elephants. A lot. Suddenly, with permission to do so, it loses some of its power, and flow can arise again. Stuck, for me, is a sign that I am no longer in flow. That I am no longer truly connected, to myself, nor the world and not my breath. I have used this too with some clients who are dysfluent "Go on, make it the worst stutter that you have ever had!". Sometimes it turns out with full permission that it is their most fluent. 

Laughing eases....

This picture is gorgeous isn't it? It reminds me of the joy of laughter. The free expression we have when we laugh, even in the face of our misfortunes and especially in our joys. When we remain connected to ourselves and do not abandon ourselves. 

I often ask my clients to giggle or laugh to ascertain how we connect to our breath in a more "natural" way. They often look at me with a great deal of uncertainty, until usually we both laugh with the falseness of the situation and not wanting to laugh. Connection to the breath, and ourselves can then occur. For some who have been highly stressed, laughing is not a regular occurrence. And for some in "suits", it is something not usually done at all in the midst of a serious work day (!).

So today, I am going to honour the guests, respect their sweeping, and wait, in hope, for new delights to appear. xx

Synchronicity

"The areas in which we feel most stuck and most incompetent may be our richest gold mine of developing material" Free Play

This year, I had wanted to walk the Camino de Santiago across Northern Spain. I have known about "il camino" for over 20 years and it has always piqued my interest. It is something I had promised friends in France that we would do before we were 40. It is seen as a rite of passage for many pilgrims: A mark of their faith, their endurance. Many have spoken of their experiences with their inner gifts opening whilst 'on' the Camino, including Shirley Maclaine. There was a film released this year, The Way, which highlighted how special the Camino route is for personal and spiritual growth. I still managed to love the film, despite some of its cliches, especially the sweeping scenery (all minus the pain of real blisters)! The pilgrims follow the scallop shell of "St Jacques" along the route.

I decided not to pursue this path this year. Trusting that as one door opens.....one may need to stand in the hallway a while till another one opens.....but open it does...and so it has.

I found a scallop shell last week whilst walking along the bay. I saw it as a sign that I have been travelling in the right direction. Making my way slowly and surely. Making my very own Camino during my immersion in Tassie. Following my heart, following the wind and the birds. Indeed the birds had squawked madly as I had been walking the other way, and watching their flight, I had decided to follow them.

Scallop Shell on "My Camino"

Scallop shell on the Camino

A synchroncity of sorts. And a beautiful reminder that we can find meaning in our lives through symbols. It is like when we buy a new car and suddenly all we see are new cars. I often see life play out around me in symbols. I seem to get lots of signs and hints when I am travelling about my internal world. A sign will remind me of a story, a song, a memory and with that I find myself dropping into the labyrhinth of my mind where I can recall, dissect, reflect upon its meaning. It seems to bring about a new clarity, focus, meaning, and I find that the depths of meaning are multi-layered.

I see signs in real life too: Speaking recently with a friend of her dismissal of her deeper feminine aspects, we were treated to a woman jumping out of a moving car at the train station. Really. A moving car. We laughed solidly for the next five minutes at the synchronicity and the strength of the symbolism. If there is ever an image now of how we "throw out our feminine aspects" that is it. And yes, it was a male driver (with respect to the masculine in us, and her masculine at the time). We both laughed at the clarity of how the external meets the internal. For me, this is my reality. There are signs in my outer world which augment, and clarify my internal world, sometimes as if to prepare me for what is ahead.

Jung believed there were many indications of how we are connected: with our fellow humans and with nature in general, through the 'collective unconscious' or "Atman". As we venture deeper into the 'Atman' we may find that we are more and more connected to our internal environment. The Germans have a great way of expressing those who are more emotionally connected to the Atman by stating "Some of us live closer to the water than others" (I can't find the German translation, and yes, if you know it, please comment!)

The artistic journey is one of reconnecting to oneself.  Of making sense of these synchronicities. A way of delving deeply into the internal psyche. An internal journey. One that isn't concerned whether we are sitting on the couch at home or in some ritzy hotel. Although, sometimes it is wonderful to change our external environment to facilitate this inner journey. It is as though it seems to dislodge any internal matter that may be too fixed and stubborn in the quotidien life by being gently jostled from our external environment. 

And by dislodging it, we may find our best song, our most beautiful poem, our richest heart.

xx