Blog

First Introduction to the Listening Space

Tue, 31 Mar 2026 17:22:51 GMT

Life

The Listening Space

Having grown up Methodist with a dash of Catholic, while also visiting many other denominations as a guest soloist, “Holy week” has left a powerful imprint on my personal practices.

I remember attending my first Maundy Thursday service as a young teen. Unlike the pomp of a Sunday service, this was a small, intimate communion gathering with low lights and minimal words. We sat in a circle around a makeshift altar and shared bread and wine (grape juice), honoring the last supper. This day in my memory marks my journey into the listening space. Not that of petition, “talking at” God, but that of listening—of “seeing and being seen.”

That quiet, sacred honoring of sacrifice still resonates within me and informs my mission—to remind us all of our divinity.

As spring begins to blossom around us, may we be reminded that we share the same “big breath” of the universe, and, through the chaos of this noisy, battering world, there is still vast beauty to share and explore.

I invite you to enter the listening space with me this week. Find a quiet spot to observe your “little breath” as nourishment. This breath, your prana/life force, not only supports your physical body, but is also your personal antenna of communication that supports your individual expression of divine Love.

Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

Namaste, (Translation: “The light in me honors the light in you.”)

Denise

To See and Be Seen

Tue, 24 Mar 2026 18:22:38 GMT

Life

To See and Be Seen - The Flower Festival, Palghar, India

This message is an audio blog. Enjoy!

((( Listen

With love, light, and gratitude,

Denise

The Thief

Wed, 03 Dec 2025 15:33:23 GMT

Life

The Thief

A few weeks ago, I was cleaning out my shade garden. And in this garden, alongside the hostas and astilbe, stands a sweet little Ganesh statue that was gifted to me by my friend, Tim, years and years ago. The statue’s adorned with an intricate red sash with gold trim and amethyst mala beads—items from my trip to Nepal. I hadn’t paid much attention to the adornments over the last few years, but on that day, I noticed how worn they were. Old energy. It was time to let them go. But they were blessed items, and I wasn’t sure how to respectfully dispose of them. I said a brief prayer for guidance and tucked the task away for another day.

The universe gave me some unexpected help.

Yesterday morning, I glanced into our backyard to see one of our squirrels wrestling with the statue. And Ganesh was not winning. Facedown, Ganesh lay helplessly in the leaves. The squirrel was attempting to steal the mala beads and sash. With its back legs gripping the large sweetgum tree, the little guy hung upside down, pulling, shaking, tugging, and tearing at the precious material. But the face-down Ganesh was heavy enough to fight the good fight and hang on to its adornment.

After a time, the squirrel gave up its theft attempt and, as it skittered off, I went out to investigate the damage. The statue was unharmed but the sash was shredded, and most of the mala beads were gone.

Ganesh symbolizes the removal of obstacles, elephant energy that can plow through any obstacle along the path. Getting rid of the adornments was a minor obstacle that I didn’t know how to deal with, but the plumped-up squirrel prepping its nest for winter saw something in them that was of value.

I laid the rest of the adornment on the ground for the little guy to get later (which he did.)

Now, as I look up at the many squirrel nests in the giant sweetgums, I know one of them is adorned with blessed amethyst mala beads and a red and gold splash of color. A sweet blessing for both of us.

I love it.

With love, light, and gratitude,

Denise

The Antler

Thu, 13 Nov 2025 15:04:36 GMT

Life

The Antler

I love our outdoor shower. We use it for as much of the year that we can manage—from the shivering spring before the first blooms through the luscious summer, and all the way into the first frost and beyond.

It’s private and tucked away in our fully fenced-in yard. But last week, after Bill and I returned from a weekend away, there was evidence of a visitor.

Something strange was resting on top of the tiny, narrow shelf that hosted my heart rock collection. Initially, I thought it was an overgrown mushroom with its long unseemly stem and fuzzy round cap. On a closer look, however, I realized it was a shed deer antler.

Now that was strange. A deer would have to do some wild yoga-like moves to fit through our uniquely shaped shower entrance after jumping our tall fence. There was no evidence of anything moved, damaged or scratched. Not a stone, nor heart rock was out of place.

Why would a deer antler appear in our shower? Having had some strange shamanic experiences in the past, I knew that things could just appear and disappear, but I sensed there must be an explanation.

I thought it’d be fun to ask AI…

“What’s the spiritual significance of a deer antler appearing in an outdoor shower?”

AI gave me a better answer than I expected.

“An antler appearing in an outdoor shower is a potent symbol of natural renewal arriving in a space of personal cleansing and vulnerability. The juxtaposition of the wilderness symbol with a place of self-care suggests a powerful message of inner strength and transformation.”

The antler, from a more trusted source, symbolizes a “crown that is grown, carried, lost, and regrown each year,” that suggests the need for continual growth and expansion as we reclaim our sovereignty.

I’ll accept this encouragement from the other side!

But I also remembered that we have two little guests living under our deck. Could they be involved in this mystery?

Hey Siri…“Do possums gnaw on deer antlers?”

“Yes, they do,” Siri responded.

Two days later, the antler disappeared.

Spirit or possum?

I’ll take both!

The takeaway:

Keep at it, shed what you need to shed, let go of the heavy burdens, tune your spiritual antenna to the divine channel and enjoy the baby possums.

With love, light, and gratitude,

Denise

Stop Hiding Behind the Bush

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 20:00:25 GMT

Life

The Wizard

“Stop hiding behind the bush and come help us,” the wizard yelled, smiling and flaring the propane fire into the huge balloon.

My sister-in-law, Aimee, and I peeked out, embarrassed to have been caught, and sheepishly walked toward the strangers.

“Come closer. Grab the basket.” The wizard smiled as he flared the fire again and again.

“Pfooof, pfooof, pfooof.”

The sound and heat chased us back, as two men hopped out of the basket and pulled it to the ground.

Only the wizard remained inside.

“Pfooof, pfooof, pfooof.”

“I feel like a munchkin in the Wizard of Oz,” I whispered to Aimee. It was a strange, unexpected site on this glorious Vermont evening.

The setting sun glowed behind the hazy mountains, giving the mosquitos silent permission to ruthlessly devour my exposed skin. But I didn’t notice.

The wizard held my attention.

“We need to tip the basket over. Please help us.” The basket rested on a slight incline, and it was going to be a big drop.

“Don’t worry. I went to school to learn how to do this safely. On the count of three, tilt it downhill. One, two, three.”

Suddenly, the basket was resting on its side. Thankfully, Aimee and I were still upright, and the hot air balloon lay on the ground sideways slowly deflating. The pilot, who just might have been a real wizard, was somehow outside of the basket, upright and beaming.

“That was fun,” he said. “Now, let’s deflate the balloon.”

We watched our new friends wrap their arms around the bottom edge of the giant balloon and begin to walk toward the top, all the while squeezing out the air as if from a toothpaste tube. We mimicked the action, but it wasn’t as easy as it looked. It was apparently not about strength but technique, and I didn’t have it. My arms tired quickly, and I began to sweat.

The mosquitos loved it.

The glowing pilot brought over a giant bag. “Let’s get it in the bag.”

We shoved half of the partially deflated balloon into the bag.

“Now we’ll all sit on it at once and press more air out.”

We all sat on the partially filled bag, and my head became covered on both sides by balloon fabric. It might have been easy to suffocate if we weren’t all working to deflate it.

Having survived that task, we then shoved the rest of the balloon into the bag, sat on it, and, amazingly, it fit into the bag, fully deflated.

“Ok, now for the basket.”

Lift the basket? I thought.

But, by now, Aimee and I were fully committed. I slapped my legs, now noticing the mosquitos.

“One thing is for sure,” said the pilot wizard. “I’m lazy and I don’t like to lift heavy things. So, I have titanium tanks and keep my load as light as possible. We’re going to slide the basket into the truck.”

The chaser truck pulled up, and we leaned the upper edge of the basket onto the bed, tilted it, and slid it in.

Technique does matter, I thought.

The mosquitos were now biting my scalp.

“Please land in our yard next time!” Aimee called out as we said our goodbyes, thanking our new friends for a new experience.

I’ve always been fascinated by hot air balloons. I enjoy them as a slow visual meditation in the air. They make me stop, stare, and be in the moment.

For a moment.

And, as I share this story, I reflect on the fun of learning something new while also bonding with and helping out strangers.

“Stop hiding behind the bush and come help us,” the wizard had called out.

Are you by chance hiding behind a bush? Or are you the one who needs help?

Lots of love and gratitude,

Denise

The Habit of Fear

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 19:47:39 GMT

Life

The Habit of Fear

"You can't control the waves.

You can't decide how high they rise

or when they crash.

But, you can choose how to ride them."

Radhanath Swami

As I stepped back onto the stage last week with an incredible group of musicians—grammy-award winners who challenged me to find my own personal best moment by moment, I knew that I had to make a choice. How was I going to ride this incredible wave?

Many of you know of my past battles with stage fright. Paralyzing at times.

Even before I arrived in Boston, I could feel the habit of fear buzzing in my body, trying to rise and command my mind.

But, as I packed my bags, I experimented with a new mantra:

I unsubscribe from the habit of fear.

It was fascinating to observe. With years of well-patterned habits trying to roll back in, it felt like a monster wave trying to pull me under.

I unsubscribe from the habit of fear.

Knowing that I was absolutely safe in that moment, I stepped into my sovereignty, and the buzzing undercurrent disappeared. The wave of fear might have rolled in, but I was able to choose how to ride it, or in this case, let it pass by.

Is there a difference between the habit of fear and real fear?

For me, the answer is a resounding YES, and I must say, it felt wonderful to rise over the habitual monsoon. (At least for now!)

I wonder if you have any habits of fear?

Fear is a frequency, a wave of energy, and, although I don't plan to focus on fear at my September retreat, I will teach simple methods of how to identify and release waves of negative energy in yourself and your space and how to set the space for positive manifestation. Looking forward to connecting with you soon!

Wishing you love, light, and ease,

Denise

The Pop Quiz

Thu, 05 Jun 2025 17:51:27 GMT

Life

It was a gorgeous fall day in Princeton.

The sun glimmered through the changing leaves as I walked into the rehearsal space, excited to continue preparation for Nabucco with Riccardo Muti in a few weeks. The bar was set high, and I was living my dream of singing with the best conductors and orchestras in the world as a sophomore in the Westminster Symphonic Choir.

Our guru of conducting, Dr. Flummerfelt, stepped up to the podium, and a hush fell over the room. I knew of “Flum’s” reputation well before I was accepted to WCC. He was the best of the best, and I was so intimidated by him that I couldn’t peep out a hello or even walk past him on campus.

But as beautiful as the day was, our singing was not. We were sloppy, out of tune, and missing cut-offs. Flum’s reddening face indicated frustration.

He dropped his hands, stood at his full height (6 feet plus) and stared at us silently. A full minute passed.

“We’ll begin tomorrow’s rehearsal with a pop quiz. I’ll choose one singer from each voice part to sing in front of me as a quartet. I’ll hear as many quartets as needed until I’m sure that you all know your part. I want perfect Italian diction, correct phrasing, and dynamics. See you tomorrow.”

My heart dropped to my feet. I may even have wet my pants. All I remember is that the gorgeous fall day collapsed in on me, and I couldn’t breathe. Sing in front of Flum? The entire choir?

In that moment, I knew that, if I were called to sing, I would fail.

My Italian was the worst, not just because of my jersey accent that continued to slip in, but, more importantly, I couldn’t flip or roll my “r’s” which is vital in both translation and choral sound. I would be shamed in front of everyone, I would lose the respect of the man I couldn’t even say hi to, and maybe even have to transfer colleges. I was doomed.

A friend saw my panic and rolled her r’s at me.

“I’m going to help you.” We cut the rest of classes and hid under a tree.

“Say d, d, d, d, d.”

I could do that.

“Faster.” No problem.

“Now say “r” over and over again.” Failed that one.

She gave me five other suggestions, and my fat tongue got heavier and heavier. We gave up, and I retreated to a practice room. I practiced through the night until…

“rrrrrrrrrrr” I surprised myself.

I did it again. “rrrrrrrrrrr.” Praise the Lord!

I sang through the chorus and felt something close to Italian diction. I might just survive the quiz.

The next day, with the sun still shining, the leaves still changing, and my heart pounding in my head and feet, I walked into the rehearsal space, as ready as I could be.

Each singer in each section chose a number. Mine was 45.

Flum called up the first group. 4, 32, 52, 81

Then the next group. 19, 33, 42, 73

Then the next. 1, 22, 49, 92

“Ok, thank you everyone,” He announced. “Let’s move on to Va Pensiero.”

Really? My heart rate began to settle.

I survived the quiz, the anticipation, the preparation AND my rattling mental tensions. What’s more, I learned a new skill.

Rolling my r’s helped me connect to my breath in a beneficial way, release tongue tension, sing in foreign languages more accurately, and, at times, scare away stray cats.

But more importantly, I learned that fear of embarrassment, being seen, or failing, when handled with care, can foster new skills, create growth, and encourage positive change.

Can you roll your r’s? If so, see how it helps your breath! If not, tempted to learn a new skill?

Wishing you love, light, and ease,

Denise

Sound, Healing, and Chaos

Tue, 04 Mar 2025 15:17:07 GMT

Life

The first time I attended a sound healing session, I had no idea what to expect, and, as a professional singer who had spent much of my life on the stage, I was intrigued.

What was sound healing and how was it different from the music I was performing?

I happened upon this event during a time of great chaos in my life—I was reeling from a sudden divorce, had recently lost my dad to mental illness and addiction, and was losing my mom to stress. My world as I knew it was crashing around me, and it was becoming impossible to maintain the demands of my singing career. I had just completed three national opera tours, several apprentice programs, and was on schedule to audition for my dream program at the Lyric Opera of Chicago.

It was too much. Stress suffocated me, stole my breath, and shut down my voice. I bombed my dream audition.

Healing was a distant tease.

When I arrived at the sound healing event, I immediately felt comforted by the 30 or so metal bowls that were thoughtfully arranged from smallest to largest. It was an orchestra like no other! I plunked down next to the largest bowl, tempted to sit in it.

An internal voice demanded, “Show me this thing you call ‘healing!’”

Certainly no “healing” was being demonstrated for me or my family. In that moment, life sucked. If my prayers couldn’t heal my dad, my marriage, my mom, my career, how could a simple sound session?

My cement heart and I lay on the mat, ready for the journey.

An hour passed as if it were a minute, and, as the facilitator brought us back, I truly felt healed—of what specifically, I didn’t know. I doubted that the chaos and disappointment surrounding my life had shifted in that magical hour.

But something within me had.

I felt lighter, softer, almost giggly. Even though my life as I knew it was shattering, a sensation of joy flowed through me. In that moment, I knew that I was going to be okay.

As I left the event, I vowed that I would learn that sound tradition and share it with others. Now, across the 13+ years following that event, my lifetime of musical training has merged perfectly with the self-healing and empowerment tools that saved my life.

I prayed for healing and in an unimaginable way, I found it.

Healing is many things. Although it doesn’t always happen on my preferred timeline or in the way that I envision it, healing energy is present for us to access here and now…even as we are moving into increasingly challenging times and rising chaos.

The stress may feel suffocating. You may feel like your voice is being strangled. You may feel shattered.

But you do not need to face it with a cement heart. I tried that. It’s not sustainable and it’s certainly not fun. Nor do you need to face it alone.

Here are some things you can do:

• Take care of yourself every day. For all the trembling news you hear, take that much more time to steady your breath and sense your center, your divine spark. That spark is powerful.

• Take time to notice the miracles unfolding around you. Open yourself to joy and awe.

• Your words matter and what you focus on matters. For as many horrors as you are witnessing, spend twice as much time envisioning the love, respect, kindness, and unity that you wish to see.

15 years ago, healing was a distant tease, but for me it snuck in a back door through divine sound. That one session jump-started my healing journey. And since then, it’s been my mission to share the healing space with others.

From relief of sciatica, headaches, and sinus infections to emotional healing, improved sleep, and stress reduction, the sky is the limit when it comes to the benefits of sound healing.

I invite you to explore my offerings as they unfold this year. From in-person to online, let’s connect and unite as we support each other on this divine mission of raising consciousness.

Love, Light and Connection,

Denise

Enter...Stage Fright

Wed, 09 Oct 2024 19:24:07 GMT

Life

I remember the very moment stage fright slipped into my being. In just a matter of seconds, I transformed from fearless to fearful; all because of one tiny shift just before my first church solo in 9th grade.

I thought I was ready to make my debut as a soloist. I had completed my vocal warm ups, dressed in my finest Sunday clothes, and spent over an hour perfecting my fine, straight hair into the perfect 1980s Jersey bangs and curly puff.

At the back of the small sanctuary, my voice teacher and I successfully practiced my favorite hymn, In the Garden, which I had been preparing for months. I indeed felt ready.

But minutes before the service began, I saw my voice teacher fluttering around, moving wires, and setting up sound equipment. Unexpectedly, he set up a microphone in front of my face, and I stared at it as if it were a snake about to attack.

This change was not planned. I didn’t practice with this foreign object, and, in all honesty, I was very happy with my soft, quiet voice. If people couldn’t hear me, they wouldn’t know if I made a mistake.

With church now beginning, and my solo serving as the prelude, I didn’t have time to object. My teacher sat at the piano, smiled, and began to play the introduction.

The intimidating snake of a microphone stared at me as I opened my mouth to sing the opening phrase. Fear blanketed me. My legs shook and my butt cheeks trembled. This unexpected nervous energy stole my breath, and I barely squeaked out the first few words. “I come to the garden al…” My throat slammed shut in the middle of “alone,” and a primordial grunt echoed throughout the church. I was mortified.

My teacher, however, continued on as if this vocal explosion had been intended to be part of the song.

In that timeless moment, I realized that the earth did not shatter and I still appeared to be alive. Rather than crawl and hide under the grand piano, I kept going, found my voice, and finished the hymn beautifully. Afterwards, church members kindly avoided mentioning the cavewoman grunt but instead encouraged me to keep at it.

Stage fright, however, was now an unwelcome hitchhiker that stayed with me for my most of my career. But the curse eventually turned into a blessing, forcing me, in a sense, into the world of sound healing as I searched for ways to manage it.

My path led me to ancient techniques and methods that shed new light on stage fright, fear, and stress. Slowly, I began to transform my fear into clarity and strength. I’ve learned to recognize fear for what it is. A bully.

My studies have proven to me that sound indeed calms the proverbial raging beast. The techniques I work with sooth my inner bully, and, as a result, I’m living a less stressed and fearful life.

What better time than now to share a few of these self-regulation practices with you?

If you cannot join the October 15th live zoom event, I invite you to consider the three-month deep dive that begins February 2025. Sound Meditation Teacher Training. This program is open to all who wish to deepen their self-regulation practices, become comfortable with their voice, and expand their breath.

My lifetime of walking hand-in-hand with, or sometimes being pulled and dragged by, fear has led me to develop specific techniques that are accessible to everyone. I can’t wait to share them with you!!!

With love and healing,

Denise

Paddling on a Sound Wave

Wed, 31 Jul 2024 19:32:29 GMT

Life

Paddling on a Sound Wave

The beach cam showed perfect conditions for my first paddleboard session on the ocean—low tide with minimal waves and a calm, clear expanse of sky and water.

But once shin deep at the water’s edge, I had second thoughts. The waves looked huge.

“Kneel on the back of your board,” Bill yelled from his board next to me. “Face into the wave and paddle HARD!”

The wave crashed over my board as I paddled up and over it. Success! But more were rolling in.

“Paddle, paddle, paddle!” He encouraged.

I went sideways into the next wave, and it took me out.

Four waves later, sopping wet and breathless, I had successfully bounced my way to my perceived destination, the flat, open ocean.

But I immediately learned that it wasn’t flat, nor was it still. Huge swells moved below me as if I were riding a slow sound wave. As I tried to stand, my legs and feet trembled, longing for solid land.

So far, this was NOT the meditative birthday paddle I had hoped for.

A fish jumped in front of me, and I wondered what was feeding on it. My mind enjoyed the opportunity to create a story about a shark, a rogue wave, and the whale that feeds in this area on occasion.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” Bill yelled over his shoulder, jarring me out of my fictional world.

“I think so!” I was now paddling, my legs were steady, and I was making headway against the wind. It was actually beginning to be pleasurable, but it wasn’t at all what I had expected.

I wonder how many “waves” we’ve paddled through already today. Perhaps it feels like an ocean during a hurricane. But we keep paddling. Breathing. Learning to face the waves head on with a strong paddle while not being distracted by the fictional sharks swimming around in our minds.

The ride is bumpy, maybe even soaking, but we paddle, paddle, paddle, until we get to clearer waters and catch our breath.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“I think so!”

I invite you to ride a sound wave with me just as soon as you can.

With Gratitude,

Denise

The Key

Sat, 29 Jun 2024 18:27:00 GMT

Life

I awoke one frigid January morning with the unexpected desire to organize my closets, drawers, and the laundry room—a rare, once-in-a-decade feeling that couldn’t be ignored. With my book recently completed, I made good use of the available free time. Arriving at the laundry room last, I hesitantly stuffed myself into the tiny space that was filled with necessary items, all with no place to go.

As I shuffled through rags, tape, shoe polish, and other random supplies, an ear worm began to roll through my head. A song from long ago, almost another lifetime, and one that my dad and I shared a love for… “The Old Rugged Cross Made the Difference,” by the Gaither Vocal Band.

In the dark, cramped space, I felt my dad’s presence.

“Hi dad?” I wondered aloud. “Are you here?”

I hoped so. On this particular morning, I was feeling alone and burdened with worry and fear. Finding the song on Spotify, I listened and let the memories and tears flow. The whole album played, as I continued to sift through laundry room clutter and old memories.

Strangely enough, in a random bin, I found a photo of my dad from the 1990s. He was hovering over his toolbox in the garage. This photo, as far as I knew, was currently in that same tool box in my shed. How did it get to the laundry room?

“Hi again,” I said, smiling through my tears.

I placed the photo on the dryer and replayed “The Old Rugged Cross Made the Difference.”

I’ve heard it said that we should talk to the dead as if they’re around. So, I did. I rambled, asking many questions but getting no answers. Returning to the photo, I picked it up. To my surprise, underneath—apparently out of nowhere—lay a key. An old, worn skeleton key.

I had dreamt about that key a few years ago, and if you’ve read Journey to Sunyata, you’ll understand the reference. It’s a symbol of my dad communicating to me. The magic and mystery of a real key appearing underneath the photo was a remarkable gift at just the right moment.

Blessings and gifts are all around us, from the grand appearance of a magical key to the tiniest heart-shaped rock or a simple song. I invite you to notice the unexpected blessings that warm our hearts and bring healing.

Love, Light, and Song,

Denise

Totality

Tue, 30 Apr 2024 17:42:21 GMT

Life

Bill and I were recently in Stowe, VT to view the solar eclipse with his sister and family. The boisterous group of 12 plus 7 excitable dogs, gathered around a friend’s pond for the totality.

As it drew near, all became still. The robins took cover in the trees, the crows quieted their caws, and the dogs huddled close to us, gazing toward the shadowed sun.

The darkening sky cooled the area a good ten degrees. And then – totality.

A collective gasp drew us into presence, and we stood, frozen – embraced in a feeling of awe that both stole our breath and tickled us with excitement. Four amazing minutes passed as the eye of the eclipse commanded our attention. There was nowhere else to be. Planets appeared, and the horizon glowed cool colors.

As the moon’s trajectory shifted to reveal the sun again, it was as if someone had flicked a light switch. The slightest sliver of the sun completely illuminated the landscape. The dogs’ confusion shifted into excited play, and they bounded toward the pond. We all giggled and hugged as if we’d experienced some sort of awakening.

What struck me the most was that it took the full hour to fall slowly into darkness, but only a millisecond to shine fully again. The tiniest light dispelled the darkness. The tiniest of tiny. And, even when the sun was fully shadowed by the moon, it glowed around it. The light could not be extinguished.

You matter. You make a difference. You are a shining light. Even in burdensome, frightening, or dark times, the light continues to shine within and around you. Be encouraged. Find things that nourish your soul, notice the magic around you, invite moments of awe, and shimmer.

Thanks for you being you.

With love, gratitude, and light,

Denise

Tiny Desk Story For NPR

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 18:46:10 GMT

Sound Healing

A Light Offering

I was born with a love for singing and as a young adult manifested everything my heart desired. I was the leading lady on the opera stage and making a humble living as a singer. I didn’t plan for stage fright to begin to dominate my thoughts, nor for the stress of the career to ultimately steal my love for singing. But it did. And then the perfect storm hit. My divorce, my father’s mental illness and an emotional crisis that had me terrified to go back to the stage.

My heart was shut down and my breath could hardly sustain a phrase.

Synchronicity led me to retreat for a week to an ashram in the Catskills. I hoped that a yoga retreat would help me find hope during the devastating time of loss. During that week, I was introduced to meditation and chant. As I sat in a roomful of “non-singers” bellowing chants in Sanskrit, my mind raced to figure out what I was singing about and to whom I was singing. I rustled through the chant book, searching for a translation. But in reading the translation, it meant nothing. In that moment, however, something very special happened. My heart began to feel the love in the room, and my ears began to hear the sincerity in the singing. My mind quieted and I felt the translation. It was that of love. The love I had lost, and a love beyond what I had ever felt before.

Ever since that moment, I have been exploring and sharing meditation and chant with others. This is why I left an orchestra to sit with a singing bowl. This is why I chose to share A Light Offering with NPR’s Tiny Desk Contest.

These challenging, noisy, and breathless times could use the balance of deeper breaths as well as music that offers a translation beyond what our minds can comprehend. That of love.

Watch View Here

Chloe's Story

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 16:26:16 GMT

Sound Healing

Chloe’s Singing Bowl

Some of you have met Chloe. She was a lab, a love, and my mother’s favorite “child.” Shockingly, both mom and Chloe were diagnosed with cancer the same week, just before Thanksgiving 2012. My mom, sadly, passed that New Year’s Eve. Sweet Chloe, however, stayed with me for another year.

It was during this time that I attended my first singing bowl training and began to compile my first set of bowls. But the one bowl that was eluding me was the throat chakra bowl. I found this interesting because Chloe had a tumor near her throat and also because I’m a singer. The only good match was an expensive antique bowl that was beyond my budget. With hesitation, I purchased it, because I knew it was Chloe’s bowl.

She loved the bowls. She’d get her toy and sit near me while I played them. After she’d fall asleep, I’d sweep her bowl around her throat chakra, as I was taught, and pray for healing. With the combination of chemo and sound treatments, Chloe went into remission for approximately 6 months.

Chloe and I helped each other grieve. She stayed with me for that first raw year of loss and passed almost, to the day, one year after my mom.

But, here’s the kicker. Shortly after her passing, a mallet flew out of my hand and into Chloe’s throat chakra bowl. The bowl broke. The expensive, one-of-a-kind antique treasure was truly Chloe’s bowl, and the sound brought us both moments of peace.

Sending you love, light, and precious moments of peace,

Denise

"Today's Day"

denisemihalik@mac.com (Denise Mihalik) — Fri, 22 Dec 2023 20:25:33 GMT

Presence

"Today’s Day"

“Wake up, it’s Christmas!” an unfamiliar, high-pitched voice chimed from the upstairs bedroom.

I was puttering in the kitchen, excitedly setting out our traditional Christmas breakfast of homemade poppyseed bread and doughnut holes, when I heard the exclamation. Deciding the mysterious voice belonged to my mother, I let it go. She was probably egging on our two dogs, whose stockings boomed with treats, toys and, a surprise doughnut hole.

With the downstairs shower flowing and my mom chattering upstairs, my parents were finally awake, and I couldn’t wait for the day to begin.

This year was particularly special. My dad and I had agreed to save our pennies (and lots of dollars) to buy my mother a cherished Gorham porcelain doll named Chloe. Aside from her creepy and staring eyes, she was the most beautiful doll I had ever seen, and she stood poised in her box, dressed to the nines, ready to join my mother’s doll collection. At the ripe age of 14, I had never been so excited to give someone a gift as I was on this Christmas morning.

To my surprise, however, my dad bounded down the stairs.

“I thought you were in the shower!” I exclaimed. “Did you hear…”

“Wake up, it’s Christmas?” he completed my sentence. “I thought that was you!”

“It came from upstairs. It wasn’t mom talking to the dogs?”

“No, she’s in the shower and the dogs are outside.” He paused. “But the voice came from down here. It really wasn’t you?”

“Uh, no,” I replied.

Our eyes met. My dad was a jokester, but I could tell that he was just as shocked as I was.

“It’s got to be Chloe! She must be excited to meet your mom.” Only partially joking, he ran back upstairs to pull her out of her secret hiding place.

I was a little freaked out. How could we both have heard the exact same thing? Was it the doll? An angel? Or our excited energy voicing itself?

We never identified whom the mysterious voice belonged to, but, to be sure, Chloe was well-received, the dogs loved their stockings, and the appreciation of the day still resonates strongly in my heart.

Just as excitement rose to create a mysterious voice one Christmas morning so long ago, I send that sincere message to each of you now but with a twist.

“Wake up. It’s Today!”

Through this unfolding human experience of “life,” we are walking in the miracle of life. Always dancing in the ether, miracles are waiting to be noticed, offering messages of encouragement, love and Divine blessings, especially during times of chaos, suffering, and devastation.

“To those leaning on the sustaining infinite, today is big with blessings,”[1] writes Mary Baker Eddy.

And Thich Nhat Hanh suggests, “We have holidays for so many special occasions…why not celebrate a day when we can live happily in the present moment all day long? I would like to declare today, ‘Today’s Day’, a day dedicated to touching the Earth, touching the sky, touching the trees, and touching the peace that is available in the present moment.”[2]

Blessings may be deeply hidden by the murk of life’s challenges, but the subtle miracles are there for us to discover — hidden gifts voicing in the ether…

“Wake up. ‘Today is big with blessings.’”

Wishing you peace, love, and joy now and always,

Denise

P.S. I’ve been asked if Chloe was a talking doll. She was not.

Except for that special Christmas day!

[1] Mary Baker Eddy, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures

[2] Thich Nhat Hanh, Essential Writings

The Silent Meal

Tue, 28 Nov 2023 16:18:21 GMT

Gratitude

During my week with Eckhart Tolle at Lake Louise in May, I experienced a most treasured, unplanned meal with five young strangers. On this particular evening, with a mix up in restaurant reservations, and only a short dinner break, we found ourselves sharing a table. Having sat for days in quiet contemplation, we were ready to use our words, and lively, animated conversation burst forth. We hardly noticed the food arriving.

Upon seeing his meal, one of my new friends from Germany, through his laughter suggested, “This is so fun, but I wonder if we could explore eating in silent presence?” (A perfect Eckhart exercise.)

Although I don’t remember what I actually ordered that evening, I vividly remember the eye contact I made with everyone as we communicated without words. Everything slowed down, and my senses kicked up like a zoom lens, focusing on taste, texture, and expression. We all delighted in each other’s delight and the presence of the moment was literally palpable.

As I anticipate Thanksgiving, I giggle at the thought of asking my family to have a silent dinner. When not prepared for such an adventure, it’s more like stepping into hell than presence. But, I might suggest a silent offering for each of you. In your own space, in your own time, consider taking a bite or two from a state of inner awareness, respect and presence. Just for you. Secret inner nourishment.

In addition, I’d like to share these 7 contemplations for mealtime from Planting Seeds by Thich Nhat Hahn. Which of these speaks to you?

1. This food is the gift of the whole universe: The earth, the sky, the rain, and the sun.

2. We thank the people who have made this food, especially the farmers, the people at the market and the cooks.

3. We only put on our plate as much food as we can eat.

4. We want to chew the food slowly so that we can enjoy it.

5. We want to eat in a way that nurtures our compassion, protects other species and the environment, and reverses global warming.

6. This food gives us energy to practice being more loving and understanding.

7. We eat this food in order to be healthy and happy and to love each other as a family.

Offering you gratitude, love and peace now and always,

Happy Thanksgiving,

Denise

The Surf Lesson

Thu, 07 Sep 2023 00:09:47 GMT

Meditation

One morning a few weeks ago, my bike and I ended up at the local surf shack, and somehow I found myself signed up for a surf lesson.

I’ve always enjoyed observing the ease and grace of experienced surfers. Having developed their skills, they paddle fearlessly into the rough waters, knowing that, beyond the active waves is a place of stillness. With eyes on their goal, they paddle forward a few feet into the on-coming waves, only to be pushed several feet back. Persistent, they face the waves head on—going up and over; diving the board under and through; or in some cases, tumbling into the ocean washing machine.

On the day of my lesson, I arrived oceanside, tucked tightly into my new wetsuit, hoping for “bunny slope” conditions, however, the incoming tide had other plans.

As my surf instructor and I stepped into the “black diamond” ocean, he had me belly onto the board and pushed me confidently into the oncoming wave.

“Hold on and push up!”

Something like an upward-dog-plank-sphinx tried to form in my body, but, as the wave crashed over us, my hands slipped, my feet pushed into his chest, and we both went tumbling down. Forgetting the idea of clear waters ahead, my body fought hard to develop a new muscle set while also managing the challenging conditions.

An hour and a hundred pushups later, my fatigued, waterlogged body amazingly found a different coordination, and I pushed up and stood on the board.

I rode my first wave. For a millisecond, the wave and I were one. Ecstasy flooded me, and I was totally in the moment. Until I fell back into the ocean washing machine.

What the lesson taught me:

•Be in the moment or you’ll wipe out.

•Even if you are in the moment, you might wipe out, but you’ll swallow less water.

•Waves come in sets. When there is a lull, rest and catch your breath.

•Be persistent. It will take time, but you will get there.

•Once you’re there, you won’t be “there” for long. It takes ten minutes to get to the right spot, and one minute to ride the wave and fall off the board.

•Try and try again.

•Laugh often.

To me, meditation is similar. It’s the process of developing the meditation muscle with the breath paddling us through the rough waters toward stillness. The clear waters are there. Always. Even if we are in the washing machine of life, we have all that we need to maneuver back to the divine connection that is already within us.

Hold on, push up and enjoy the ride, dear friends.

Love and Light,

Denise

Gift of Song

Tue, 03 Jan 2023 23:13:56 GMT

Life

Dear Friends,

This year has been full of immense blessings, gigantic challenges and sweet miracles. Thank you for being one of those miracles as we journey together through this mash called life. You inspire me and truly make my heart sing.

I recently came across this live recording from a Benefit Concert that I sang several years ago and thought to share it with you. This song always brings me joy. It's not the best quality, but perhaps the message will sound.

Ding Dong Merrily on High

Wishing you and your loved ones abundant blessings during this season and always.

From my heart to yours,

Denise

That's a Prayer?

Tue, 03 Jan 2023 22:58:55 GMT

Life

“God is good, God is great, thank you for this food, amen,” I said joyfully, almost singing the prayer that I had recently learned in church. It was brief and to the point. And heartfelt. Now, I was ready to eat!

“That’s a prayer?” gramps Mihalik burst out.

I thought it was.

He bowed his head and began to recite aloud his blessing, slowly and with purpose. The longer (much longer) and more formal Catholic blessing was beyond what my kid-self preferred, and I was fidgety and impatient as I peeked at the fruit salad appetizer.

I don’t remember the words of the prayer, but I do remember his intent and tone. (I also remember his tone when he suggested I join the marines instead of going to music school, but that’s for another day.)

Now, almost five decades later, blessing the food is one of my most treasured rituals, and, wouldn’t you know it, “That’s a prayer?,” still pops up from time to time. But I can now confidently smile and say,

“Yes, gramps, it’s a prayer. Glad you heard it because it’s from my heart.”

No matter the words, no matter the tradition, a heartfelt moment of gratitude is a precious offering.

From my heart to yours,

Denise

Three Horses

Thu, 17 Nov 2022 19:28:06 GMT

Life

My mother dreamed of having an animal shelter that housed a few goats to keep the grass at bay, a pig, just because she always wanted a pet pig, and a few abandoned or injured animals. Although she did not get to realize that dream, I always think of her when I visit the tiny animal shelter at the Govardhan Eco Village in Maharashtra, India. One of the monks shared this sweet, simple story about how the shelter came to be.

It began with one rescued race horse. Although the monks were well versed in the care of cows, they had no idea how to properly care for a horse.

First, they applied their skills as trained engineers to design and build the perfect shelter to protect the horse. But, after a few weeks, the horse appeared to be ill.

“The horse is sad and lonely,” the local veterinarian told the monks after a detailed examination.

A simple solution! The monks rescued two more horses, and the three new companions shared the shelter and were fed well. But after a few days, they all appeared to be ill. They called back the vet.

He examined them and exclaimed, “Now all three are unhappy!

“But why? We gave them shelter and nourishing food.”

“They need exercise.”

Another simple solution! The caring monks ran the horses daily on the unpaved, bumpy road all the way from the front of the village to the back, and still, nothing changed.

The vet returned and looked at their hooves. “The roads are not good for them. They need a field.”

Not a simple solution! But the caring monks began to clear a field and create a pasture. When they released the horses into the pasture for the first time, they ran, played, and kicked up their heels.

When the vet returned, he smiled and clapped his hands, “Yes, now they are happy!”

This simple, true story warms my heart. The effort involved to comfort one horse, grew to include three horses and, at last check, three donkeys, two debilitated sheep and two goats. This small shelter complements larger established programs that include feeding thousands of children and empowering women and farmers. It starts with one act of kindness.

It’s a funny coincidence that just yesterday, I found a perfect half day retreat location in Howell, NJ. The rescued horse, donkey, pig and black lab greeted me as I walked the grounds. Please join me on Jan. 14th, 2023 for an in-person half-day winter retreat.

The Chime Peddler

Thu, 06 Oct 2022 19:54:26 GMT

Sound Healing

Long ago and far, far away in a time that predated my awareness of singing bowls, sound healing and meditation, I was vacationing in Costa Rica with dear friends who were excited to show me the hidden gems of their home country. We began the trip in a tiny town, name long forgotten, and there, lived an elderly wind chime peddler. As he pushed his small wooden cart awkwardly along the rough road, the handmade clay bells randomly crashed and clanged into each other. The silent, hunched peddler moved slowly and steadily along, as the bells yelled out to anyone who might take notice. No matter where we were, the peddler inched around in the background, becoming a staple of our visit to the village.

“Clank, cling, clank.”

After a time, the clashing sounds began to shift to something more subtle, and I began to feel soothed by the music of the trailing peddler.

Three days later, we moved on to explore other areas of the country, but interestingly enough, those silly, simple bells continued to call to me, making me regret not purchasing the primitive, hand-made chimes.

Luck was on my side, or so I thought, as we returned to the small town on our way to the airport. Excited to hear the chimes again, I searched the streets and town square for the peddler and listened for the rattle and crash, but he was nowhere to be found.

Disappointed, my friends and I ducked into a tiny coffee shop for one last cup of fresh Costa Rican coffee, and as I reveled in the warm, nutty perfection, out of nowhere I heard, “Clank, cling, clank.”

The peddler, walking at his same slow pace, rolled his small cart into the coffee shop right up to me as if I had requested a house call. Staring silently and expectantly, he held up two fingers. My friend translated the action, “Two American dollars.” A steal!

I now have a huge inventory of sound healing instruments, and yet, I still return to my two-dollar, hand-made bell chimes. The earthy simplicity just might have been my first real call to the sound of healing; simple, primitive, and magnetic.

Drilling Thirteen Singing Bowls

Wed, 21 Sep 2022 19:57:31 GMT

Singing Bowls

This past Sunday, I tackled a project that's been on my to-do list for years: to drill holes into thirteen precious singing bowls. Just the thought of it has kept the drill deeply hidden in the closet for fear of ruining my rare and almost-impossible-to-find chromatic* set of hand-hammered bowls.

I stumbled upon them six years ago, while shopping in Suren’s warehouse. As the set started to reveal itself to me, one bowl at a time, I actually began to tremble and geek out at the thought of finding something so special. It was not only rare to have private time in the warehouse, but it was even rarer to find four-inch bowls that were precise enough in pitch to create a musical scale. With a newly found attachment to an unexpected goal, I hid for hours in that corner of the warehouse, terrified that I would be interrupted before I could find the precious thirteenth bowl to complete the set. Finally, after ringing hundreds, and I mean hundreds of bowls, my mission was indeed accomplished.

So on Sunday, six years later, the day had finally come to brave the drill and make my creation. I envisioned a mobile of sorts that I hoped would enhance the overtones. Although the first drill bit did not survive my amateur drilling technique, I am happy to announce that the bowls did and the sound is spectacular. This unique set, while small, is too heavy to travel with, so I hope you can come to the Sound Awakenings studio to experience them in a session.

Love, Harmony and Gratitude,

Denise

*For those unfamiliar with the chromatic scale, envision the piano keyboard. A chromatic major scale is thirteen half steps, played consecutively, including both white and black keys. Try it!

Radhanath Swami

Fri, 29 Jul 2022 21:37:07 GMT

Life

I was blessed to be with my spiritual teacher, Radhanath Swami, last weekend and I fondly recall my first meeting with him about ten years ago.

Bill and I had traveled to a Bhakti farm in Harrisburg, PA, and we felt like fish out of water. We were brand new to the culture, knew no one and were tempted to slip out early in our discomfort. But then, Radhanath Swami appeared. It was a simple entrance, with no pomp or announcement. From a distance, I saw him and began to cry. Radhanath Swami radiated something that felt familiar, comforting and all too rare; divine Love.

As he approached us, grinning broadly, his eyes met mine. I was ready share my story, to tell him who I was, where I had come from, but in that moment, none of it mattered. He was peering into my very soul, and all I could do was giggle. He did the same to Bill, and the three of us stood speechless, giggling like children, while basking in agape love.

I sensed that he could see all of my faults and mistakes but also my potential. He looked into my eyes beyond my humanhood and saw me as something more. In that vulnerable moment, I felt divine. I felt whole.

And then he said to both of us, “Thank you for being so beautiful,” to which Bill burst out, “Right back atcha!”

And then we all laughed.

The divine frequency of Love. It’s easy in the presence of a wisdom teacher like Radhanath Swami, but it’s difficult out in everyday life. There is something very special (and vulnerable) about looking into someone’s eyes and really seeing them; to step beyond words, differences, stories. I don’t do it often enough, but I’m going to practice.

So, what if we gazed into the eyes of the Divine through our own eyes, and said, “Thank you for being so beautiful.”

And in that vulnerable silence, we can giggle and maybe hear…“Right back atcha!”

Taking Pause

Wed, 06 Jul 2022 21:06:32 GMT

Life

I’m excited to be finishing my first book¬—and about learning to be a writer. It’s a completely different experience from all that I’ve already done. It’s immersive, vulnerable, fun and maddening. When my eyes, body and brain can take no more, I journey to the pond a few blocks away and immediately become mesmerized by the simple and profound ecosystem, both seen and unseen, beautiful and unsightly.

The tadpoles flutter to the surface for a quick nibble before returning to the shallow leafy murk, while the frogs’ wide eyes peek at the sun. The turtles float like a shadow, and the green backed heron, with its three young ones, learn how to fish.

Along the banks, two baby raccoons rustle the leaves while four ducklings hustle into the water, following their mother’s cue.

Located at an active intersection, I stand peering over the bridge, honoring the contrast of concrete and mud. For a few moments, I’m sucked into mother nature’s resilience, and the traffic disappears into the background.

It’s a very special pause and one that fills me with freshness.

The mind, however, is a funny thing. Often, one of my mental characters awakens and scoffs, “Enough, you’re wasting precious time just standing here doing nothing. Go do something productive.”

I almost succumb to the pressure until something deep within responds,

“This nothing is very much something.”

Now, more than ever, with continued mounting world stress, taking pause is needed.

In this pause, we can catch our breath.

We can notice, see and appreciate the precious gift of living that for some is over way too soon. We can find the clarity to move forward in an inspired and informed presence.

In this nourished pause, we can discover how to truly help others.

Please let me know how you take pause.

Family Traditions

Tue, 31 May 2022 18:33:59 GMT

Life

I’m always asked to bring hummus and a spinach salad to the annual family picnic. That’s just the way it is. My aunt once made the radical suggestion that we all bring something we haven’t brought before. That suggestion fell flat; not a chance.

Two weeks ago, however, I had a dream about my mom’s seven-layer salad. I hadn’t thought about that salad for over eight years since her passing and, although I never really liked it, there it was in my dream and, I took it as a direct message to bring the salad to the picnic. Now, I don’t know about your extended family but, we don’t communicate well and, decisions are never fast and easy. Getting permission to bring the salad could take weeks so, instead, I trusted my intuition and found the recipe. The only problem was that the recipe didn’t have any measurements. Classic.

So, on Sunday, I showed up with the improv seven-layer salad and snuck it into the refrigerator.

“You know,” one of my cousins approached me upon arrival, “I’ve been craving your mom’s seven-layer salad.”

Funny coincidence!

Later, out on the patio, another cousin said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you for your mom’s seven-layer salad recipe.”

Haha! Although we might not communicate the traditional way, I certainly got the message. And, not only was it was tastier than I remembered, I was reminded that some traditions should live on. For the next picnic, I’ve been asked to make my mom’s oreo ice cream cake which definitely beats a spinach salad!

Just in case you now crave the recipe, I’ve shared it below. And the energetic recipe is:

Trust your intuition.

Listen for the messages in the ether.

Add measurements for future generations.

Many blessings as we step into the summer months.

Love, Light and Gratitude,

Denise

Seven-Layer Salad Recipe:

Fresh, raw spinach

Salt, pepper, sugar

Crumbled Bacon

4-6 Chopped hard boiled eggs

Chopped iceberg lettuce

Salt, pepper, sugar

Uncooked frozen peas

Sliced onion

Mayo (top like a frosting)

Julienne strips of Swiss cheese

Layer ingredients in order and refrigerate. Serve un-tossed.

The Tenor and the Fly

Sun, 03 Apr 2022 21:45:51 GMT

Life

Opera Tour 1998

It was the second act of the Barber of Seville, and Count Almaviva had just revealed his true identity to his love, my character, Rosina. He and I stood center stage, holding hands, when, from a distance, a fly flew into view. It glistened in the bright stage lights as it danced in the air and landed directly on the tip of the Count’s nose, just as he ended his long, florid musical profession of love. His eyes crossed to look at the fly, and I stared at his stunned expression. Time stopped. Seconds on the stage felt like minutes, and I got the giggles, but the conductor was waiting for me to sing. The fly stayed, and I turned upstage to try to compose myself. Figaro was smiling broadly and looked at me as if to say, “Hold it together.” There was no choice, I could wait no longer, so I turned to the conductor, took a breath and croaked out the notes through my laughter. It was not my best singing, but the show had to go on. And go on it did.

It was a perfect antidote for me that night, because, earlier, I almost called in my understudy. I had learned a few hours before that show that my grandmother had just received a terminal diagnose and was foregoing treatment. She wanted me to continue the tour and not to worry. I was devastated and didn’t understand, in my young mind, how I could continue my life while she was losing hers. I didn’t want to go on that night, but she said, “You must. The show must go on. Your life must go on.”

The appearance of that silly, little fly on the Count’s nose felt so random, but it was a once-in-a- lifetime randomness that encouraged me. I felt that it was my grandmother telling me to laugh (when you can!) even in the worst of times, to grieve but to not become the grief, and to LIVE, even in loss.

With Gratitude, Love and Light,

Denise

The Sparrow

Wed, 08 Dec 2021 20:23:57 GMT

Life

“Thump.”

I had just sat down for my morning meditation when I heard the unwelcome but familiar sound of a bird hitting the window. I looked out and saw a stunned sparrow collapsed on the patio. Its leg was stretched to the side, its breathing was heavy and its eyes were half closed.

I ran out in my socked feet and pajama’s and hovered over the tiny bird. The cold morning wasn’t helping the shocked sparrow, so I tenderly picked it up and cradled it in the warmth of my hands, knowing that it might not make it. I sang the Maha mantra to it softly, hoping to help it either recover or transition in peace.

I sing all of the time but particularly in times of stress and have learned in my studies to focus on the Divine name at the time of transition.

So, here I am with the little sparrow. After about five minutes, its eyes began to open, it’s breathing settled and it turned its head toward my voice. Was it listening or thinking, how do I get away from this giant? I opened my hands and it hopped onto the patio and sat with me for a while, maybe to hear the last phrase? And then it flew off.

It was a gift to hold the tiny sparrow and it was a message of encouragement for me after a long, stressful weekend because it reminded me of the old, classic hymn, “His Eye is on the Sparrow.” Do you know that one? Whitney sings a might version of it.

Why should I feel discouraged

Why should the shadows come

Why should my heart feel lonely

And long for heaven and home

When Jesus is my portion

A constant friend is He

His eye is on the sparrow

And I know He watches me

I sing because I'm happy

I sing because I'm free

His eye is on the sparrow

And I know He watches me

Have a blessed holiday season. I hope to see you this week and more!

With Gratitude, Love and Light,

Denise

Blessings in the Airport

Tue, 19 Oct 2021 16:26:01 GMT

Sound Healing

It was time to go home. I was working my way through security at the Mumbai airport and they noticed something suspicious in my backpack. I must admit, the five-pound hand-made chimes that I purchased for my sound healing practice did look strange tightly wrapped up, but I was so tired, I had forgotten about them. Under great scrutiny, I carefully unwrapped it, held it up and let the chimes ring. A beautiful sound resonated throughout the area and all of security looked my way.

“Musical instrument!” the guard yelled showing some relief. He then asked me where I purchased it.

I said…Hari…uhh, Hari…”

He said, “Haribhau Vishwanath?”

“Yes!” I replied.

“Ah”, the guard smiled and said, “A great place, very sacred instruments. Ok, you can go. I will help you.” As others waited to have their luggage checked, he took the time to find scissors and tape and helped me wrap it back up.

So often in my travels, I end up demonstrating the hapi drum or a singing bowl to the airport security officers. It’s a moment in their day when I see them smile and take a breath.

I’ll be in Suren’s warehouse in Boulder, Colorado tomorrow, which is my equivalent of a candy shop. Look out! There are more cool things to come!

With Gratitude, Love and Light,

Denise

Stretch Mode

Tue, 14 Sep 2021 17:04:55 GMT

Life

“We must remain in stretch mode,” my smiling teacher told me as we bounced around the streets of Puri, India in a rickshaw. “In stretch mode, we are constantly learning, exploring and stretching ourselves beyond the known, and beyond our comfort zone.”

This was my second trip to Puri and I was feeling stretched. I was overwhelmed by the pollution, the population of people and animals, the dust, the noise, the smells, the sewage…it was a challenge to all of my senses.

Seeing and feeling only chaos, I asked, “Where is the sacredness?”

My teacher answered, “Which Puri do you see?” He paused. “It’s a shift of focus that leads to a shift in consciousness.”

In that moment on the bouncing, dusty rickshaw, with the help of my teacher, I tried to tune in differently. I listened beyond the car horns to the chants resonating from the many temples. I tried to feel the sacred resonance of the land and I looked for order amidst the chaos.

“It’s a shift of focus that leads to a shift in consciousness.”

During this time of great chaos how stretched do you feel?

Yup. Me too. So I continue to return to the question, “Which ‘Puri’ do I see?”

Singing with the Plants

Tue, 17 Aug 2021 17:03:06 GMT

Sound Healing

At the Govardhan EcoVillage, Maharashtra, India in 2012, I remember walking into their greenhouse and feeling a sense of awe as I looked around at the huge variety of healthy and colorful plants. Having just arrived from the dusty city of Mumbai, it felt fresh and alive and I took a deep and clear breath. Around me I heard the Maha Mantra playing from speakers that touched all edges of the greenhouse with its divine frequency. One of the monks greeted us and shared this true story…

One day a business man traveled the long distance from Mumbai to purchase ferns for his penthouse. After a few weeks had passed, he called the greenhouse.

“I am doing all that you instructed but the ferns are dying. I am giving them the proper amount of water and they are in the correct type of light. You sold me bad plants.”

“Are you playing music, or singing to them?”

“No.”

“This is what they need. Play the Maha Mantra, sing to them the holy name and they will be happy.”

The man followed their suggestion and the plants perked up and began to thrive.

I remembered this story a few days ago as I loaded up my plants into the warm car for their final move to the new house. They are large plants and the two of us had trouble getting into the car unscathed. Finally, with the car filled to the rim, we began the journey to our new home. Fatigued and sweaty, I began to sing.

The Lazy River and Covid Recovery

Wed, 05 May 2021 17:01:09 GMT

Life

The Lazy River and Covid Recovery

I haven’t been to a water park in ages, but I was recently reminded of my favorite ride – The Lazy River. Have you been on the Lazy River? You sit in an inner tube, relax and float around a windy, steady, continuous ‘river.’ The man-made current moves you along slowly.

This image came to me in the middle of the night last week. I had been awake for several hours as my mind swirled with emotions. I was trying to find peace and forgiveness for a loved one whose careless choices had infected Bill and me with Covid last month. I was disappointed and angry, and the three a.m. hour only enhanced the feelings.

So there I was, breathing deeply, repeating my mantra over and over again, praying for peace.

“Help me let this go.”

Pop! The image of the lazy river came clearly to my mind. And floating in the river was a large, white bathtub. (You can’t make this stuff up!) Sitting in the bathtub was my loved one, comfortable, smiling and covered in flowers. The flowers represented the essence of compassion. The image was so vivid that I could feel the compassion radiating to me as well. We were both embraced in the energy, and I immediately relaxed. As the flowing current moved the bathtub along its way, I fell asleep.

Today, the lazy river is still at work. I see my loved one floating in the continuous river, still smiling and covered in the ever-fresh flowers of compassion. As the image slowly passes by, I am also embraced by this energy. The radiant vibrancy goes beyond anything my human self can understand, and it is leading me toward peace, healing and forgiveness.

Please join me this month online, in person or on the lazy river.

With Gratitude, Love and Light,

Denise

The Smallest Blessings

Mon, 30 Nov 2020 17:58:29 GMT

Life

“We can learn to rejoice in the smallest blessings our life holds”

Pema Chodron

I loved Thanksgiving. My family gathered every year at my grandparents’ house in New Jersey. During the dinner preparation, I always had two jobs; the first was to open the can of cranberry sauce – the kind that came out formed just like the can – and to slice it just right. That was always a mess. And the second was to fill the fancy stemmed bowls with fruit salad. As a child, I always wondered why we had to suffer through fruit salad before being allowed to eat the real food! We had our habits and our rituals and we were very comfortable with them. We all loved being together.

Now, there are no more large family gatherings. It’s just my aunt and I and I’ll be honest… every year, during the holidays, I flounder and feel lost. But what consistently gets me through is being grateful for what I do have. So, as I share with you the above quote, I’m sharing it, because finding gratitude in times of adversity has been my saving grace.

This year, as the holidays roll in and we all continue to cope with the great challenges of 2020, perhaps we can gather inspiration from the ordinary miracles of our lives.

Learning to find the tiniest blessing in what might seem to be commonplace or challenging might just be the greatest gift we can give to ourselves and to others.

Wishing you peace, harmony and strength,

Denise

Be Persistent and Consistent

Sun, 15 Nov 2020 17:55:22 GMT

Life

Yesterday I was preparing a traditional Nepali recipe that required fresh, crushed ginger using a mortar and pestle. When my teacher and his wife first taught me this recipe, he said, “It is best to chant to the food,” as he walked around the kitchen, mortar and pestle in hand, happily singing a simple melody, Om Mani Padme Hum.

So here I am, in my kitchen, chanting and crushing, chanting and crushing. I look at the ginger and it isn’t close to the proper consistency. My arm is already pitifully tired, and I notice impatience settling in. The other vegetables are getting overcooked because I started step two, not planning for step one to take this long. I acknowledge my impatience and my habit to rush, and got back to the task at hand. Om Mani Padme Hum

I’ve observed a similar impatience in several practitioners who have passed through my studios. One young meditator attended a half-hour meditation, and I could see her nervous energy as she chose her seat in the room. During the practice, her eyes continually popped open and her breath was fast and shallow. Yet, after the class, she approached me and said, “That was nice, but I’m ready for Level Two. When do you offer that?” Sympathizing with her urgency to jump ahead, I gently explained that this practice didn’t have formal levels but was more about consistency and practice.

While in India our leader often said, “Be persistent and consistent.” In the packed Temples and busy streets, this was the only way that we could move forward though the rushing crowds. Only by being persistent and consistent, were we able to eventually get to our destination.

Isn’t this the way of the spiritual path? Isn’t this the way of even just walking a positive path?

As I continue crushing and chanting, crushing and chanting, the ginger eventually gives way to the correct consistency, and I am reminded that on this day, as world emotions—as well as my own—are elevating, I simply need to be persistent and consistent. Today, that means taking time to roll out my mat, focus on my breath and sit for a few minutes.

Here I listen for the still, small voice within. The eyes might flutter open, the breath might be shallow, but this practice offers an opportunity to tap into the inner strength that is ever present and ever vibrant within my Being.

Here lies the strength that will help me move through the large, rushing crowds, as I hold steady toward my destination.

With gratitude, love and LIGHT,

Denise

Wood Chisel

Sun, 01 Nov 2020 17:53:43 GMT

Sound Healing

“Do you have a wood chisel?” Bill asked “Maybe. What’s a wood chisel?” I replied. We searched the basement. No wood chisel.

We had several house projects to complete that day and I was sent off to run errands while Bill worked on a project in the garage. An hour later, first task complete, Bill said to himself, “ I really need a wood chisel.”

As he started to go back to the house, something stopped him. ”Look in the garage,” he heard from somewhere within. He turned around to the jam packed garage. “Over to the right,” he felt. He saw a pile tucked away for donation and started looking through a plastic bin. As he searched, a drawer from another bin slid open. “Hmm” he thought.

Inside was a wood chisel.

I received an excited text. “You won’t believe it! I was led to the chisel! The guidance was SO subtle to start but then the drawer literally fell open!” A simple, ordinary miracle.

I truly feel that we all have access to this quiet, miraculous guidance. As Bill said, it was so subtle. It can easily be ignored or overlooked, particularly when the outside world feels very loud and full of challenges. Yet, within the chaos, there IS space and quiet. We just need to know how to access it and learn to trust the still, small voice within.

With Gratitude, Love and Light,

Denise

You Gave Me My Breath Back

Mon, 19 Oct 2020 15:01:30 GMT

Life

“You gave me my breath back,” a student told me with tears in her eyes. Wow! My eyes also welled up with tears. Her sincerity momentarily stole my breath. This adult is a cancer survivor and had attended yoga, meditation and sound healing classes to assist with her recovery. Now, on the other end of treatments, she realized that the wind had been knocked out of her on so many levels, yet now her breath was back. I, however, didn’t do it. She actually did it as she was willing to explore specific techniques to remember that which she already so deeply knew. Sometimes we just need a little guidance and support.

There is no doubt that this is a breathless time. Fortunately, there are techniques to help us regain our footing and breath so that we can walk in clarity and strength.

Please consider joining me for the virtual offerings until we can gather together in person.

With Gratitude, Love and Light,

Denise

Tread Carefully

Sun, 02 Aug 2020 14:50:55 GMT

Life

Last year around this time, I was walking on one of my favorite paths in quiet meditation. I looked ahead and saw the path covered with colorful butterflies and moths. It was so beautiful. Slowing my pace, I had to tread carefully so as not to crush the tender beings. They danced around my feet and I giggled like a child, happy to be surrounded by such beauty.

At the time, I felt that I was being reminded to slow down, take pause and honor how precious life is. I could have stomped through rushing and unaware, harming many in my path. Yet, this day, I was given the gift of presence.

Now, as I begin to step out of quarantine, I am once again reminded to walk mindfully, look around and take pause. For if my actions are rushed and mindless, I can cause great harm. But if I tread lightly, with care, I will be aware that I walk this one earth with all beings, and I share this one breath with all of humanity.

Wishing you and your family abundant health, love and blessings,

Denise

The Gift of Life

Thu, 30 Jul 2020 14:49:05 GMT

Life

The monkey in the above photo was waiting for the opportunity to bust into our room and create havoc. They are very clever. Show one moment of weakness and they’ll have your sunglasses and sit just out of reach, waiting for you to bring bananas to beg for them back.

My partner and I had just arrived at this beautiful, ornate and simple temple in Tirupati, India. We were exhausted from the stresses of the trip so far. Hoping to be on a pilgrimage, instead we had been in a Chennai hospital twice; the second time for a successful procedure on his spine. He was limping along but had come so far in just one week’s time.

The room was simple. One blanket, one bottom sheet and no toilet paper or toiletries. There were little bugs crawling on the walls and a monkey, waiting at the window.

In this moment, I wanted nothing more than the luxury I was used to at home. At the very least, hot water and toilet paper, yet, here we were and it was OK. He was OK. We looked at each and smiled at the magic and blessings all around us.

My trips to India and Nepal have taught me so much but the message I am reminded of today is to live simply, compassionately and fully. Today, I may be out of toilet paper and the monkey may have stolen my glasses, but still, I am being offered the gift of life. How will I cherish and share this precious gift?

With Gratitude,

Denise

Honeycomb

Wed, 01 Jul 2020 14:46:26 GMT

Sound Healing

The picture above shows the dance of water while sounding the singing bowl. Can you see the honeycomb formation? Depending on the size of the bowl, specific geometric shapes are formed within this movement. For example, my large G body bowl creates a square within the honeycomb formation. It takes time to get to that specific frequency, but when all is just right, ‘BOOM’, you can see it. I find this fascinating and am continually exploring this geometric dance in relation to our well-being.

Why might this be important? Our bodies are mostly water and we are also rhythmic beings. For many of us, the rhythm of our life patterns have shifted greatly in the last few months and that may feel unsettling, to say the least. However, I remind myself, when I feel in moments of stressful change, that just before the beautiful honeycomb appears, there is great chaos. The water splashes everywhere and seems to be without pattern or rhythm and all is lost.

But then “BOOM”, there it is.

As you tune into this week’s meditation, perhaps you’d like to consider visualizing this honeycomb dancing through your being.

With gratitude,

Denise

Sunrise And The Ordinary

Sun, 28 Jun 2020 14:28:52 GMT

Life

This morning, I awoke at four am feeling agitated and wide awake. I couldn’t shake it so I decided to drive to the shore to view the sunrise. It was glorious and alive with colors and textures. With a smile and a song, I offered my gratitude to the beauty and majesty before me. Overhead, eight great blue herons flew by. Eight! I’ve never seen more than one at a time. Three ospreys were next and then the oyster catchers with their great orange bill. Then, as I waited for the whale to appear, for that must be next, the most majestic bird of all flew by – a seagull. Yes, a seagull. You see, I felt so unimpressed by this little seagull as compared to all that I had just witnessed, that I was reminded of an interview I heard long ago.

A bird expert was asked how to begin bird watching. “Do you need expensive binoculars? Where are the best places to visit to see the best birds?” His answer was simple. “Start in your own back yard. Sit quietly and observe the ordinary, the expected and the common. Look for details you have taken for granted or never bothered to notice. Find the wonder and miracle in that which is already around you.”

So, as I pondered my reaction to this ordinary, common and expected little seagull in comparison to the eight great blue herons, I sat and observed. The gull looked back. As we stared at each other, I offered gratitude for the miracle that it didn’t steal my banana bread. Then, I smiled at the majesty of the ordinary all around me and the miracle of presence.

With deepest gratitude,

Denise

I was camera free today. Photo above taken January 2020,

Sunrise over the Bay of Bengal, Mahabalipuram, India

Planting New Seeds

Tue, 19 May 2020 14:26:53 GMT

Life

Eight years ago, at the passing of my mother, life led me back to live at the old homestead- the house that my great-grandfather built in 1923. It’s a small lot separated at the back by an established hedge, one that my family have always been stewards of. Keeping up these living, growing beings is work, but it’s well worth the beauty and natural habitat it creates.

A few weeks ago, my new neighbors, as gently as they could, informed me that the property survey revealed that the hedges are actually on their property and they wanted to put up a six foot privacy fence. I could either transplant the established hedges onto my property or I would have to let them go. A simple choice for many. As I looked at the root system, deeply intertwined, mature and sturdy, I called upon my family and expert arborists for advice.

“Let them go. It’s not worth it. Plant new ones.”

This is a complex root system. A system that goes beyond the living plants and into family tradition, emotional and mental connections and attachments. The timing is interesting and I wonder if I would be grieving the loss of the hedges this deeply if it weren’t for the Covid crisis. The world’s complex root systems have been dramatically disrupted and as I cry for the loss of the hedges, I cry for other things that I can’t even begin to process. And it is ok to grieve. For in this process, I am reminded to focus on the roots that are ever present within me. These roots reach deeper than anything around me – deeper than my work, finances, beliefs, attachments, losses and gains. The roots of Spirit. God. Connection. Divine Love. Nature. We all experience this connection in our own way but what unites us is an ever present, ever abundant love that is crying out to be felt and heard. Let’s awaken into a strength that enables us to plant new seeds and cultivate a new earth, along with an inspired habitat within and around us.

I hope you’ll join me.

Love and Light,

Denise

Don’t Look Down!

Thu, 02 Apr 2020 14:25:08 GMT

Life

We knew the monsoon rains were mighty, but we didn’t anticipate how bad the flooding would be as we tried to get back to Kathmandhu. There was only one road out of town and that road had just collapsed down the mountain. There was chaos everywhere – cars, buses, tuktuks, motorcycles, people and animals- all either trying to turn around or figure out how to get across. We sat for hours, waiting for a new plan. Finally, our tour assistant opened the vehicle door and said in a deep resonant and firm voice. “Denise, get your purse and let’s go.” Leaving the luggage behind to be dealt with later he led me to the edge of the collapse. “Are you afraid of heights?” he asked. “Yes,” I whispered. He looked at me and yelled, “Don’t look down!” He ushered me forward and nudged me onto the narrow path that remained. I didn’t look down.

We are dealing with collapsed roads, monsoon emotions and flooding uncertainty. But know that there IS a narrow path that will lead us forward to the other side. This path sits within each of us and is a mecca of strength. Here, wisdom awaits us. “Don’t look down!” Look within. You’ve got this.

With Love and Light,

Denise

Ssh Be Still

Mon, 16 Mar 2020 14:23:21 GMT

Life, Meditation

It was the day of my senior undergraduate voice recital. I was both terrified and excited, as I wasn’t used to performing in public as a soloist. When I stepped onto the stage, I looked out and saw an audience full of friends and family. Full.

My heart beat strongly as my accompanist began to play. All were curious to see what I had to offer, as most didn’t know that I could sing, nonetheless offer a full recital. I don’t remember many details except for the special encore surprise that I had planned. My dad was a closet song writer and one of his songs touched my heart deeply. My accompanist and I presented it as my encore.

The words:

“Today I will change, but I don’t know where to start. It is my wish the Lord will calm my heart. Days of silence and obsession, nights of trouble and despair, me on my knees asking simply please, dear God, do you care?

And the answer came…Shh be still, shh be still and listen to your heart.”

These words, thirty years later, still float through my mind. As I bring meditation to those who are either new or struggling with the practice, I hear about the fear, unease, and trouble with being still.

I’m reminded of this quote from The Infinite Way by Joel Goldsmith

“That which we term our humanhood must be still so as to be a clear transparency through which your infinite individual Self may appear, express or reveal itself.”

Beautiful quote, but again, how do we find that stillness? Simply by beginning a practice. And doing it the next day and the day after that.

For with as much activity that we have in our mind and system, how can we expect that just a few minutes of trying to be still will be enough? But it starts with that one conscious breath. And moves to a second one. And when the mind wanders, we simply bring it back to the next conscious breath.

Today, as we are being thrust out of our familiar routine and feelings of safety into the unknown, it’s almost as if we are being asked to find a deep place of stillness and reflection.

Here’s a second quote to ponder from the same source…

“You are already that place in consciousness through which infinity is pouring.”

And there is a place within you that is always safe.

Be still, and listen to your heart.

With gratitude,

Denise

The Living Temple

Fri, 14 Feb 2020 15:21:13 GMT

Life

Mahabalipuram, India 2020

The pilgrimage itinerary included visits to both living temples and temple ruins. The living temples are beautifully active, alive and vibrant with association, ritual and song. The ruins, although alive long ago, are now just structural remains.

On the first few days of pilgrimage, my partner was suffering with a sudden condition that caused so much pain, he was unable to walk. We had to immediately adjust our idea of what the pilgrimage was going to be, both individually and as a couple.

On this specific day, as the group headed out to visit the temple ruins, we were hotel-bound, his body demanding rest. Another member of the group, a dear friend, stayed behind, the three of us holding space for each other while the group supported us from afar. As my partner rested, I pondered the unexpected events of the trip so far ¬– life’s challenges catch us wherever we are. We’d traveled halfway across the world only to deal with a sudden health crisis.

The itinerary was lost, the visit to the ruins and the living temples cancelled. Despite that, there, in the hotel room, holding space for each other, we experienced a different kind of living temple with no sacred alter, roof or ritual, but rather the connection and flow of love. We experienced the treasure of Divine strength and support as the new, unknown path unfolded.

I was reminded that the preciousness of the moment is beyond what the mind labels as sad, scary, painful. The preciousness of the moment says, “Be here, now, fully – allow yourself to feel, love and know that all is well.”

The value of living association is wherever we are. The living temple of the Self – filled with love, faith and trust.

With gratitude,

Denise

Snow Covered

Tue, 19 Nov 2019 15:19:27 GMT

Life

The landscape was covered with a hefty snow storm. Roads were just starting to be cleared and I was en route to the studio to teach a yoga class. As I rounded the bend, I saw a car coming my way with its windshield completely covered with a thick layer of snow. Completely. And yet, it was still moving forward. I watched in disbelief as the car turned left in front of me and continued on its blind way. Grateful to be out of its way, I pondered what I’d just seen. I suspected the snow from the roof had slid onto the windshield, temporarily blinded the driver. And yet, they continued to move forward, sight fully blocked.

This example reflects my own spiritual path. Blinded by the obstacles of life’s storms, I keep going, covered in snow, every now and then seeing the road. Sometimes the snow is so thick on the windshield that even when I know to use the wipers, they are bound in ice- the ice of life’s fears, doubts and pain.

Yet, through my ever-expanding spiritual practices, the ice melts and the spiritual wipers begin to work, allowing me to see more clearly.

Sound healing is only one of my personal practices but it’s very powerful as many of you know. It’s a simple way to clear, cleanse and connect. Layers of obstacles can be cleared with just one sound. A sound “windshield wiper”. Then, a bit clearer, we walk in inspired thought and connectedness, more prepared for the next snow storm.

Peace, Love and Light!

Denise

The OM

Mon, 18 Nov 2019 15:16:30 GMT

Sound Healing

Two years ago this September, I was sitting on my deck in shock, having just returned from a trip to Nepal with my sound healing teacher, Suren. I was weak, fatigued, sickly skinny, and shaken up. We eleven travelers were all now in our respective homes, not talking, but rather, processing what had just happened. Part of my trip was so bizarre that it could only be thought of as fiction to most people, my partner included, therefore, I was having trouble communicating to friends and family what had happened. That frustration made me angry as well. In this state, I could only sit in quiet and BE. I had no thoughts, no past, no future. The Denise I knew had been hit hard, physically, mentally and spiritually. I felt chewed up and spit out, and this blob of a being was trying to recalibrate and reform. It was here, sitting on the deck with the birds, the trees and the traffic around me, that I was able to settle into a deep meditative state. I had an awareness of a great silence all around me, but I also felt and heard the OM; the OM that yogis describe in the texts. I was in the OM. I was the OM. Here, I was complete, safe and loved. Some part of me was aware that I was sitting in, and with the sound of the Universe. It’s really indescribable. When I came back, I was able to carry this feeling with me while I was regaining my strength. I’ve tried to get back there, and what brings me the closest is through the gateway of sound.

I’ve been given such gifts through all of these experiences, and I desire to find more ways to share. This is where ‘Journey from Sound into Silence’ came from as well as other developing courses and recordings. Please stay tuned!

We are here to be pillars of love, integrity and goodness, and there are many ways to connect and find strength. Let’s meet in sound and see where it leads us!

In vulnerability, peace and Light,

Denise

P.S. The above picture is unedited. It was taken during a special blessing ceremony at the Pashupatinath Temple in Nepal on the first day of the trip. My hair was not on fire, but rather, the photo captured something special.

The Fly

Tue, 27 Aug 2019 14:10:15 GMT

Life, Meditation, Travels

I had just arrived in Nova Scotia, a beautiful and quiet oasis. I was familiar with the place and the trails and was very ready to have a quiet, meditative walk. Mala beads in hand, I began my walk. Almost immediately a fly began to buzz around my head. In my seven years coming here, flies have never been a concern. As I chanted, I gently swatted it away expecting it to pass. This fly, however, was persistent. It continued to buzz around my head. It was fast and constant. It buzzed so close to my ears, the sound of its vibrations began to rattle my nervous system. Feeling my heat rise, I tried to focus on my meditation. Still chanting with the mala, I swatted more persistently with my other hand. That didn’t work, so I picked up a stick and swirled it around my head, still trying to focus on my chanting. Nope. We both became more desperate. The fly buzzed into my hair and then in one ear and around to the other. Fire fully ignited now, I said to myself…“I am better than this, I can ignore this…” I continued on. However, I felt myself chanting angrily while I also yelled and swatted at the fly. “I am not going to let this little fly ruin my meditation!” But it did. “Denise, learn the lesson here. What is the spiritual significance of the fly? “ The answer. “Just get back to the house and get a hat. “ The fly escorted me back to the house. I said my goodbyes and immediately searched for a wide brimmed hat.

The lesson – For some, thoughts (the mind stuff) are the equivalent of the fly. They are loud, persistent and have strong vibrations. We try to swat them away but they come back even stronger. They rattle the nervous system and manipulate our emotions. They distract us and make us do strange things.

The hat is the equivalent of a personal practice- A practice that can protect us and offer shelter so that we can have some relief from the constant buzzing. I had to choose which hat would work for me. In the same way, we can choose and experiment with different forms of meditation. You see, so many people wouldn’t search for a hat. Many would just stay in the house, locked in the confines of what is known and what feels safe. But others will have the courage to search for the right hat, put it on and get back out on that walk.

Protected by the large brimmed hat, the fly and I had many meditative walks together.

The Pink Bow

Sat, 03 Aug 2019 14:07:37 GMT

Life

It was early morning, and as I looked out the window to greet the day, I noticed a giant pink bow in the middle of my yard. How strange! The grass was just turning green with the new energy of spring, and the pink bow sat upright on the lawn as if it were proudly offering a gift. I immediately thought of my mother, who loved to give presents and loved the color pink. I smiled and offered my mother a silent hello. Then I remembered that it was delivery day! The old refrigerator of my childhood, with its squeaky door and smoke stains that regularly froze my produce, was finally being replaced, thanks to a recent inheritance from my dear, departed relative. It was also delivery day for the inheritance. I looked back at the mysterious bow and felt goosebumps this time. “Hi Mom! Hi cousin!” I paused and listened. “Hi kid, it’s ok, I’m ok.” I took a deep breath, shed a few tears and offered gratitude for that random bow that made me feel connected to my loved ones across the veil.

Loss is hard. Life has its challenges and blessings. I share this story to offer you encouragement to notice the subtle signs of support and love; a heart shaped cloud, a flower, a penny, a random bow.

I put the bow on the refrigerator when it arrived!

Love and Light,

Denise

Life’s Twists and Turns

Tue, 09 Jul 2019 14:04:35 GMT

Sound Healing

One of my teachers, Radhanath Swami, tells a story about a young boy he met in Kandabahr, Afganistan many years ago. Radhanath Swami was drinking tea in a tea stall in a very impoverished area when a young boy entered. The boy was desperately poor, his clothes were soiled, torn rags. He was emaciated and eyes were disfigured and discolored. He was blind. This young boy carried a branch from a tree that he had connected to a tin can and a long string. He began to play his instrument and sing. He sang about his love for God, Allah, and when he sang, his face illuminated the entire room. His smile was ecstatic and he transformed the room with his love for God. This young boy was the happiest person he had ever seen and this experience made my teacher question his entire existence.

It makes me question mine as well. What is contentment? What brings True happiness? As I reflect back on some of my experiences in life, I realize that I have been searching for contentment all of my life. My true path has really been about a search for Divine love- and music has been my means of exploration.

I’ve always loved singing and as a child dreamed of being on the stage. I dreamed of being in the spotlight- having the power to affect peoples emotions- to make them laugh and cry. And although it’s been an amazing path, it’s not been an easy one.

For example, in 5th grade, I was one of four children in the entire grade to NOT to make the choir. In middle school, my music teacher was far from encouraging. He told me that I wasn’t good enough to make the award winning high school choir and that I shouldn’t bother auditioning. My fate changed however, when a student teacher passed through in 7th grade. She saw a spark of talent in me and took me under her wing. I began to study voice with her. I snuck a copy of the audition material for the high school choir and practiced and practiced until it was all memorized. I got in and the music world began to open up to me. I still wasn’t a strong enough singer to get lead roles in the high school musicals and I was amazingly shy and stiff in the chorus, but I forged ahead. I had to. My heart insisted.

I continued on to get two music degrees, and was lucky enough to be selected to join a touring opera company as well as many other beautiful experiences. By now, I had come out of my shell, a vocal technique had kicked in and I was manifesting all that I thought I wanted. What I didn’t count on was stage fright. I was finally in the spotlight and I was scared to death. I was able to hide it most of the time but the internal battle was sickening and exhausting. I was learning how powerful the mind is and how debilitating it can be for no good reason.

This was my informal start with meditation.

Now, life shifted quickly while on an opera tour in 1997. Our set truck rear-ended the van carrying six of us singers. We all had severe whiplash but we had a show to do that night. We had just enough time for a hospital visit. They gave us strong pain medication and we were on the stage that night and back on the road the next day. Because the injury wasn’t treated properly, it began creating debilitating pain in my head. This was the start of my journey with yoga and energy. I jumped into the yoga world initially to relieve my physical pain but it turns out, it has shifted my entire spiritual life.

I was brought up Methodist with some Catholic influence and have sung and worked in different churches for most of life. As a child, I absolutely loved my church experience. The radiant love and Light of Jesus is what spoke to me. We studied the Bible, prayer and doctrine and I found that to be contradicting and confusing. I asked many questions, but many of the answers were unsatisfying. At times I was encourage NOT to question. This didn’t help either. I began to question why I couldn’t question.

Now, pop me into the yoga world 30 years later- not only am I still questioning my faith but I’m now exploring and enjoying other traditions. I initially felt like I was betraying my upbringing, but the more I explore, the more I see the similar Truths and the more my heart is opening to this Divine Light that I so identify with. My faith is being strengthened through this exploration.

In 2003, several challenges happened all at once and life as I knew it came crashing down. My career fell to pieces as my marriage fell apart and I lost the dad I knew to addiction and mental illness, even though he was still alive. Details spared, I’ll just say that I was starting at zero again and it was a challenged, dark time. I did my best to make lemons out of lemonade, but it was pretty sour for a time.

Life’s synchronicities led me to retreat to a Holy place called an Ashram. It was here that I learned (through chanting and meditation) to become comfortable with stillness and silence and the darkness within me. I was reminded that I could love myself even though I felt so broken. Here, we chanted many names of God. And there were so many. I was introduced to Sanskrit, an ancient language and loved it. Sanskrit is very much about the energy and essence of the combination of consonants and vowels. What I learned was that chanting in Sanskrit defied my mental chatter and instead, engaged my heart, and this is where healing began for me.

In addition, the Ashram altar had many pictures of saints from all traditions. I was surprised to see a picture of Jesus there as well. Very inclusive! I liked that and felt comforted by that gesture as did visitors from other traditions. I wondered why didn’t we do that in the church?

It was here that my heart opened to life again and even though I knew I had to return to the fires of life still feeling broken, I didn’t feel alone anymore. I had reconnected with Source. But this time, it wasn’t something outside of me that I aspired to connect to, it was a part of me, it WAS me. Divine Love was in me and I was in the energy of Divine Love. I was awakening into a spiritual Truth of Inclusive Love and Service.

My path has transitioned greatly from the opera stage. Even though I’m still singing, it’s changed from singing TO people to singing WITH people. My work with the Singing Bowls, Yoga and YogaVoice is richly rewarding. A far cry from the opera stage and quite a strange shift in the eyes of many but I’ve allowed my path to transform. I’ve been forced to flow down stream with the flow of life because paddling up stream is just too exhausting. (And believe me, I tried)

My path has become about reminding others to stop, breathe and become comfortable in stillness and silence. In this silence we can be reminded of our connection to Source.

As I said earlier, God for me was initially something external; Heaven was a place we go after death- but now my journey has awakened me to the spark of God within my heart –

and connecting to this NOW, within my own Being is Heaven here on Earth.

Connecting heart to heart with others, is Heaven on Earth.

Appreciating nature and the beauty that surrounds us is Heaven on Earth.

We are always presented with choices- the fires of negativity and fear, or the riches of love, connection and compassion.

What do we choose in each moment? In connecting to this Love within ourselves, we can freely share with others. It is limitless!!

We are all beautiful Blossoms of Divine Light. Explore, search. Find trusted teachers and a pure path to study. Tap into your own heart, as broken as it may seem at times and offer yourself love and compassion. Create your Heaven on Earth.

Polluted

Wed, 12 Jun 2019 14:02:12 GMT

Sound Healing

“Holy people like you, Swami, are the problem with the world.” said a powerful Indian politician to my teacher, Radhanath Swami, in the Mumbai airport. “You’re not doing anything but asking people to pray and chant. What about the pollution, the poverty, the wars, the problems of the world?”

Radhanath Swami answered simply…“We can clean up the entire world today but until we clean up our own hearts, tomorrow it will all be polluted again.”

Wow. What a simple and powerful answer. The child in me wants to say… “tell her about the programs you have developed to feed children, educate farmers and preserve the earth’s natural resources!” But his message was so much more important.

And so, as I walk along the shoreline picking up trash, I look ahead and see that my one bag is hardly going to make a difference. Discouraged, I begin to cry. “Could I ever influence the consciousness of these polluters as I walk the shores alone?”

Ah, but then remembering Radhanath Swami’s words, I begin to chant gently, reach for another discarded plastic straw, and pray. “Please purify my heart and let this action in some way help and teach others. “

What you do matters. How you do it also matters. Perhaps no one will notice, perhaps no one will applaud. Do it without asking for anything in return. Do it from your heart.

Peace and Light,

Denise

Radical Forgiveness

Sun, 05 May 2019 13:59:04 GMT

Sound Healing

Radical Forgiveness

Years ago a family member was admitted several times to a local mental health facility, and it was an incredibly challenging time for all of us. For years and years following, I avoided driving past the hospital, and when I had to, uncontrolled hurt, anger and grief would rise to the surface, and I would be lost in memories and regrets. At the mere mention of the institution’s name, I would grimace and shut down the conversation. I didn’t realize how much negativity I was clinging to and how that clinging was affecting my mental wellbeing. One day, a friend innocently mentioned that this facility was having a staff wellness fair and that I should consider offering sound healing sessions there. From the emotional state I just described, you can only imagine my reaction. I colorfully declined. My friend let it go.

A year later, a doctor from the hospital randomly reached out to me via email to invite me to offer sessions at the very same fair. I hesitated and took a breath. “Would it hurt to speak with someone about it?” I thought. I called and had a candid conversation with the organizer who was a social worker there. I shared with her some of my pain while she offered her perspective from her own heartbreak for clients and families. This helped to loosen my defensive barriers, and I was able to look beyond old pain and begin the healing process.

A few months later, I walked into the hospital with my heart pounding and breath short. I saw the needs of the staff and began to connect and offer sessions. Healing was had by all, myself included. Five years later, we continue a respectful and special relationship.

I share this story, not to be lauded for my heroic healing, but because, it’s my guess, that I’m not the only one who’s had to go through the process of radical forgiveness. May this encourage you in some way to continue forward in growth and expansion.

Meditation on the shores of the Bay of Bengal

Tue, 26 Mar 2019 13:55:38 GMT

Meditation

It was six am and all was quiet. It was a cool, misty morning well before sunrise. A few of us met to chant japa* together. Our hair was already wet from the falling mist and we could barely see the waves breaking through the fog. I was waiting to see a mystical form or a pirate ship appear on the foggy horizon but instead, I saw pilgrims arriving at the bay for the first time. Some were crying, some yelled with joy, others just needed rest, for they had traveled days, maybe weeks (many on foot) to reach this sacred land. They came here to pray, bathe, and connect to waters that are deemed holy. Some will even offer the ashes of loved ones. My group chanted quietly as we continued our meditation. I looked to the left to see our hotel lifeguard walk up to water to begin his morning prayer. He honored the four directions, touched the sea with his right hand and brought the water to his forehead. He could now begin his work day. He noticed us sitting on the wet sand, our hair wet from the dew and began to pitch a tent for us. The beach peddlers arrived. They knew us by now, as it was day three, and we knew what they were peddling. Conch shells and pearls. “No thank you” we said which means maybe to the peddlers. We showed them our mala beads. ‘Praying” we said. They stepped a few feet away, watching, waiting, hoping.

The lifeguard, tent now pitched, got chairs and insisted that we move under the tent and sit in the chairs. Although content on the wet sand, we could not insult his efforts. The lifeguard dried each chair for us. We sat. The peddlers saw our movement and took the opportunity for a possible sale. The conch peddler set up all of his shells in front of us. “You look while you pray” he said. He knelt in front of me staring. I closed my eyes to focus on my meditation, but the smell of gas fumes suddenly filled our tent. The chai peddler had arrived and he was heating the water. Now my mouth began to water for he made the best chai in all of Puri. He sat and watched us. “Praying” we said. I gave him the “see you later ‘ signal and my mind now had a deadline. We coughed from the smell of his fuel. The conch peddler held a shell in front of my face. “Good conch”, he said. He blew into it. It resonated loudly. As if on cue the camels walked past and the cotton candy peddler appeared.

PRAYING I reminded myself.

Smiling, our fearless leader, Gaura Vani, stood up and said “Let’s walk” and we tried our hand at walking japa meditation. (As I passed by the chai peddler, I made eye contact; wait for me, I’ll be back!)

This true example represents the many personalities and distractions our minds can offer us at any given time. How many peddlers do we have in our head? How much pollution, how many cravings, or time limits do we impose upon ourselves. I smile as I remember this very special day in Puri, India just a few weeks ago.

Lesson for me- There will always be distractions. I chose to pilgrimage all the way to India to focus on Spirit and yet, there were still so many distractions. The good news is that Spirit is HERE NOW even with

Camels and Peddlars and Chai, Oh My.

See you in meditation. Let’s keep at it.

Love and Light,

Denise

*Japa is a type of meditation using a string of 108 beads called a mala.

The Gift

Fri, 11 Jan 2019 14:55:40 GMT

Sound Healing

Seven years ago, on New Year’s Eve, I was gifted with a unique blessing in the darkest of times. I had ‘a shared death experience’ with my mother as she transitioned. I had no idea that this was possible. My aunt witnessed it, and it was the greatest gift we could ever receive. Someday I will share the full experience, but I mention it today to share a special message. The gift I received was a gift of love. Such love. The experience showed me that even in times of great trial and despair, there is an ever-present energy of ‘rightness’; a seed of innate perfection and beauty. In other words, on some level, somewhere, all is always well.

This precious gift has deeply informed my life, teaching and work with others. Just after this experience, I was led to dive even more deeply into sound as a healing modality, for inspired sound can lead us to that seed of ‘rightness’. Now, as I lead others on sound journeys, I think of that love and see the radiant seed in every participant. In that space, we get a break from the challenges of daily life and can be renewed, rebooted and inspired. It’s a constant process of tuning and re-tuning into that which is ever-present but so often veiled.

Peace and Light!

Encouragement for Another Rainy Day

Fri, 30 Nov 2018 14:55:43 GMT

Sound Healing

We’ve had two very wet seasons here in NJ. I don’t mind the rain, and in fact, above is a picture of a few of my yoga students and I offering a ‘rain salutation’ before class. What you can’t see is the laughter and giggles.

Have you seen the video of this young child experiencing rain for the first time?

(I’ve posted the video at the bottom of this page)

She was mesmerized by the feel and temperature of the rain. You can see the wonder and excitement on her face and almost feel what she was feeling by watching her hands try to capture the sensations.

The feel, the smell, the sound often takes me back to the memory of a childhood spring rain. I LOVED it. But now, as an adult, I’m aware of the basement flooding, the roof leaking, the road closures and traffic. I feel this stealing my childlike wonder and I don’t like that.

Many times I have let life’s lessons steal my wonder and get me down. This season is particularly hard for me. Yet, as we continue with our practices and tap into the wisdom gained from life’s lessons, then spiritual maturity, childlike wonder and excitement emerge. A deep remembrance of who we truly are shines through.

You see, I desire to experience life again with childlike wonder, excitement and exploration and this takes constant tuning and re-tuning because the frequencies of fear, anxiety and adult worry are strong and persistent. This adjusts how we see, listen and act. My work with the singing bowls has offered me a modality to help myself and others quiet the mind, lessen anxiety, and in some cases, alleviate pain. From this clearer space, we can connect to a freedom of spirit, freeing ourselves FROM life’s lessons into a higher reality. It may not seem easy but it’s well worth it as the combination of childlike wonder and spiritual wisdom can move mountains.

Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

Peace, Love and Light,

Denise

Deep Listening

Thu, 20 Sep 2018 21:01:56 GMT

Sound Healing

On November 15, 1990, many musicians and thousands of people gathered for Leonard Bernstein’s memorial service. I was one of many singers in the choir to honor this legend. My most remarkable memory was watching and listening to the orchestra play the overture to Candide – without a conductor. The podium was kept free to honor Lenny’s memory and energy. As a young musician, watching from the best seat in the house, the stage, it was incredible to hear how perfectly this large pickup orchestra stayed together without the guidance of a conductor. It was one of the best performances I’ve ever experienced. How did they do it? Candide is not simple, and they most likely didn’t even have a rehearsal, as players came from all over the world for this one day. So, how did they do it, and why am I writing about it 28 years later in my sound healing newsletter?

My theme this month is listening. ‘Tuning in’.

I watched these incredible musicians listen – they listened not just with their ears; they listened with their entire being. For that moment, each player was present and connected with each other, strangers and friends alike. How often do we ‘tune in’ in this way with others, the natural world, and our inner voice? As a young musician, this experience taught me a lot musically, but now, 28 years later, I feel like I’m just learning how to really listen.

My question for you this month is…

“What does it mean to truly tune in, to listen?”

As Rumi so beautifully said, “There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.”

What can we learn from each other, nature and the feel of sound and silence?

Namaste!!

Love and Light,

Denise