
by Nayaswami Rambhakta
The singers in the choir at the Palo Alto Ananda Sangha temple would meet early on Sunday morning to practice before the service began. I would attend the early rehearsal, then I would get in the car and drive for an hour on the back roads of the foothills and chant.
I found that I could sing the best, with inner focus, and a sincere desire to serve as a channel for the music to bless others, when I was able to go deep in a chant.
There was one practice where I stood next to Chaitanya, one of our most experienced singers. I had returned from an hour of “highway chanting,” and after the practice Chaitanya said, “You should be singing in an ensemble.” This was a surprise, because I had sung with the choir no longer than a month. But I understood that it was because I had offered myself to serve as an instrument of blessings. The greater the inspiration I felt in chanting, the more easily and beautifully I was able to sing.
Yet there came a time when I began to feel that Paramhansa Yogananda no longer wanted me to chant, but to turn my focus instead to singing Swamiji’s music.
One Sunday morning, as I was driving I realized that I was finding little inspiration in chanting, and so I prayed, “Divine Mother, I’m going to practice Swami’s songs. I don’t know if it’s right, but here goes!”
I began singing a song that was difficult for me – it was in the high tenor range, and the words were tricky. Our music director, Karen, a professionally trained musician, had told me how she practiced. “My voice is often rough or thin at first, and I’ll do some scales to get warm, then I’ll just sing the song for a long time until it gets smooth.”
Karen sings beautifully, and like many who are good at what they do, she makes it seem effortless. To discover that with all her experience she still had to work to prepare her voice was heartening. As I drove on that particular Sunday morning I began singing the first song on the program, and I immediately noticed that my voice was quite rough, and tight and thin on the high parts.
I prayed to Yogananda and Swamiji, “What can I do to fix this?” I then recalled some tricks that Karen had suggested, like singing only the vowels of the song. I did that for a while and the song got a little easier. Then I sang the problem parts over and over until I could feel which areas needed special help, and I prayed again to know what to do.
I found that it helped to sing a song that was equally high but easier to sing. For example, I’ve been practicing “Three Wise Men” for a Christmas concert, and I’ve had trouble with some of the parts where my voice gets thin and reedy. But I’ve found that if I sing the tenor part from the Hallelujah Chorus first, it’s a lot easier to sing “Three Wise Men.”
What seems to work generally is to pray for help, then do whatever comes to mind. Often it will be a matter of simply praying then singing the song many times until it “gets smooth.”
It also helps to sing the song for a while, then take a break and be quiet. Somehow, when I return to the song, it’s easier, as if a superconscious part of my brain had worked on the music during the silence.
It’s wonderful to find that if I sing for a long time, the roughness and thinness go away and the problem spots get “fixed” and easier. Nowadays, I’ll pray for help, then warm up with a little chanting, sing a few scales, and finally sing the song many times until it’s fixed. It’s as if a higher power recognizes my sincerity and steps in to help. It feels as if Swamiji and Divine Mother are finally able to sing through this instrument, and there’s a better understanding of the music.
The feeling that something higher is singing through me has persuaded me that it would be a blessing for everyone at Ananda to sing this music, and to try to go deep with the songs.
It helps me remember that the music is at the core of our work. It carries the special ray of inspiration that is the Master’s mission through Ananda, and singing it helps deepen our attunement with its divine source. The more faithfully people prepare to receive that power, the more powerfully they’re able to feel it flowing through them.
When I listen to the practice recordings of the tenor parts, I think “My goodness!” Because there is no resistance in Dambara and Chaitanya, no diversion. They are fully immersed in the song.
Early in my life at Ananda, Swami urged me to chant as a way to open my heart in devotion to God. When I took up chanting, I mostly chanted while driving. In five years I chanted for at least an hour and a half every day, mostly in the car. I put lots of miles on our cars, and I wore out three cassette tapes of Swami’s recording, “Kriyananda Chants Yogananda.”
I noticed that when I sang for a long time, it did interesting things to my body. It made me sit upright and it expanded my chest. I would feel energy rising into my heart, and at the time when I was singing daily, my practice of Kriya Yoga grew richer and deeper.
In a talk that Swami gave in Los Angeles, he said that he had never suffered from stage fright, because he always had an attitude of giving. Similarly, I’ve never felt self-conscious or nervous when I got up to sing, if I was wanting to share God’s beauty and inspiration with the audience; if I was stepping aside from the ego and not just wanting to sing beautifully or draw attention to myself.