Welcome

December 2022

If you’ve followed this blog (thank you), you’ve probably noticed that I’ve written about several topics here, from composting to marathon running, and a bit about my bagel making business. These activities were important parts of my life, and I may explain at some point how these activities are similar, and how they reflected my larger interests and values when I decided to write about them.

Here and now, however – At This Time, In This Place – I’m going to talk a bit about my meditation practice and how it relates to my life and career. I’m aware that there are hundreds of thousands of authors and social media influencers in the world that already discuss meditation, mindfulness, wellness, self-help, Buddhism, contemplative Christianity etc., and other similar topics. And, truth be told, having read so much on these topics myself, I’m confident in saying that they all say the same essential things. Yet, I’m going to contribute my two cents here: I’ll distill some of these essential truths, filter them through my life experience, and present some insights in a way that I hope speaks positively to those who read it. The dharma has many doors, and I sincerely hope that my particular door opens to you in a way that is meaningful.

Since June 2022, I’ve published several blogs on choralnet.org about the intersection between mindfulness and music. I’ll start by republishing them here on this site and write periodically on meditation, mindfulness and (sometimes) music.

Peace.

Silence

Now, a month after the conclusion of my 10-day Vipassana Meditation Course, I think I’m ready to start processing the experience. The course materials describe Vipassana Meditation as a process of self-purification by self-observation whose goal is enlightenment and the eradication of suffering. Obviously, this goal cannot be attained in 10 days, but like my marathon training, I learned so much about myself and my capabilities during this very intense period of study. It was an intense experience, and I hope to do another, or something similar, once a year.

Before the course began, I was a little concerned about the schedule (4am-10pm every day), the meals, and the fact that the course was to be held in almost complete silence. The schedule, truth be told, was very close to my normal daily schedule and didn’t require a big adjustment. The food was absolutely delicious. Simple, vegetarian meals were served at 6:30am, 11am, and tea and fruit at 5pm. And the vow of noble silence I took at the beginning of the course revealed the first insight into my personality and some of the issues I struggle with in my day to day life.

If you know me, you know I like to talk and you would be surprised to learn, as I was, that I was absolutely relieved that I wouldn’t have to talk for 10 days. Throughout the course, the teachers emphasized that we were on individual paths, and that noble silence would prevent us from comparing our experience to those of our fellow meditators, and prevent us from feeling pride or shame about our place on the path. I must admit, I’m a bit of a people pleaser and can be easily influenced by others opinions. I thought about the many times I’ve attended choral conferences, heard the buzz about a particular session or performing group, attended the session or performance, been totally underwhelmed by what I saw and heard, and kept silent about my opinion because it was contrary to the prevailing opinion of my peers at the conference. Again, I was absolutely relieved that we could just do our own thing, process the teaching at our own pace, and not talk about it every day.

I do like to talk, and love lively conversations, but I learned that I also feel obligated to talk in many situations. When I was in Paris this past January, my son and I were at the Parthenon and when we walked in we heard choral music. I was relieved when I discovered that it was a recording and I was freed of the obligation to introduce myself to the choral director and make small talk. The fact that I could have walked in and toured the building anonymously was completely lost on me because in my mind, as a choir director, I was obligated to introduce myself to my fellow choir director, compliment their performance, and exchange contact information. Re-read the last sentence: that’s completely insane. But for some reason, in the course of my life, I’ve taken on the responsibility of greasing the wheels of social interactions with strangers, whether we are on line for a meal, passing in the hall, at a concert, or at a meditation course. I became curious about how my consternation about silence turned into relief that I didn’t have to talk for 10 days. Thank God I could just concentrate on what I came there to do and not worry about if everyone else was comfortable. As I re-entered my life, I thought to myself, why don’t you just concentrate on what you want to do in any given situation and not worry about if everyone else is comfortable?

Finally, 10 days of noble silence showed me the wisdom of the saying, “You have no idea what is going on in someone else’s head, so be kind.” In addition to not talking, we were not supposed to communicate with fellow students in any way – eye contact, hand gestures, or in writing. When I think about it, most of us carried ourselves through the week with neutral faces. No one was beaming or smiling as they progressed through the course. This was a little disconcerting, and I learned later that all of us made assumptions about what the others were thinking at any given time at the course. When we broke our silence on day 9, most of us opened up our faces and I met some of the most delightful people I have ever encountered, including a fellow music professor. We all marveled at the fact that we experienced many of the same thoughts and emotions throughout the course, yet we had no idea specifically what others were thinking or feeling at any given time. I’m trying my best to carry this attitude into my daily life.

Next: I am in constant pain

Gratitude 🙏🏼

February 17, 2023

My “Sit and Do Nothing” experiment has concluded and as I am writing a summary of the project, I thought I would share two things that I am thankful for. (See my post “Sit and Do Nothing” for complete details.)

First, for the optional meditation session that followed the conclusion of the experiment, 5 out of 7 students attended. The 2 that didn’t simply were tardy that day, and did not opt out of the experiment.

I was off-campus for the rehearsal that followed, and I planned for my absence by scheduling a student-led rehearsal. As we picked the sections of music to be covered, it never occurred to me to mention our meditation time. When my student-leader gave me a report of the rehearsal, she mentioned that the ensemble started the rehearsal with one minute of silent meditation.

Sit and Do Nothing

[Updated February 9, 2023]

Sit and Do Nothing: A Meditation Exercise that Never Uses the Word “Meditation”

Purpose of Project: Despite enjoying a greater degree of mainstream awareness and acceptance, and scientific proof documenting its efficacy, the words “meditation” and “mindfulness” often conjure images of blissed out monks sitting crossed-legged under a tree (apologies to the Buddha). And while I know my meditation practice has improved my own focus, concentration, self-confidence, capacity for compassion, and general well-being, I have been searching for a way to use meditation and mindfulness as a tool to cultivate these positive qualities in my students in choir, without contending with the negative or incorrect ideas associated with the practice.

Parameters: I’ve planned an initial 8-week period for the project. The students involved are members of the Shepherd University Camerata, a small S/A vocal ensemble comprised of 7 members. The ensemble meets twice a week for 1 hour and 15 minutes per class. The meditation sessions begin each class period; students are given brief instructions, the session is timed, and their feedback is recorded immediately after the session concludes. Importantly, the purpose of the study has not been explained to the students, nor the expectation that the study should produce a specific outcome. The students are aware that I am interested in meditation and mindfulness, but in the context of it being a hobby. The topics of meditation and mindfulness are not part of my daily conversations or interactions with the students.

Instructions: Students are seated in chairs and are asked to assume a seated Singers’ Posture; feet on floor, body aligned, hands in lap, eyes closed. They are given a brief set of instructions, are told the time that each session will last, and that they will be asked for feedback and the conclusion of the session.

Week 1 (2 sessions, 30 seconds per session)
I informed the students that I would like them to take part in a study I am conducting, and that the study would require them to sit and do nothing for a few minutes at the beginning of each class period. I did not use the word meditation, but presented this simply as an opportunity to sit and do nothing for a designated period of time at the beginning of class. I explained that I would be logging their feedback, but that the feedback would be anonymous. I expected some confusion and scanned the students for any evidence of discomfort. A note here: I have worked hard to cultivate an atmosphere of openness and trust which I believe is crucial for this study; the students know and trust me. Hearing or seeing no objections, I reiterated the instructions “sit and do nothing for 30 seconds” and started the timer.

Session #1: I was pleased that the students immediately took to the exercise without talking or trepidation.
Student Feedback: Students reported that they although they were silent for the complete time, their minds were active, and they probably weren’t sitting and doing nothing in the strictest sense. Students reported that they were planning, daydreaming, and became aware of sounds in the room (a clock) and in the building (music being played).

Session #2: I was worried and anxious about keeping time accurately.
Student feedback: As before, students noted thinking and awareness of sounds, in addition to several other sensory experiences, awareness of the heart beating, the feeling of their clothes against their skin, and smells. One student noted some discomfort and said that this session was the only time other than when she was sleeping that her mind wasn’t racing, and that she was not accustomed to that feeling.

Week 2 (2 sessions, 60 seconds per session)
This week I introduced a bit more structure to the exercise. I gave students the option to continue to sit and do nothing or to follow their breath (Inhale…Exhale) and/or count their breaths (Inhale 1…Exhale 1). I informed them that each session would increase in time to 60 seconds.

Session #3: I continued to be anxious about the time and resolved to find an alternative to using a stopwatch.
Student Feedback: Most students participated in tracking their awareness of the breath. One noted that in addition to counting her breaths, she visualized her breath as it was entering and exiting her body. Students continued to note their awareness of sounds.

Session #4: I used a meditation bell and timer (on an app) to start and end the session. The timer included ambient sounds (rain). Next session, I will continue to use the bell, but not the ambient sound.
Student Feedback: Students chuckled when the rain sounds initiated. Students were split evenly on whether or not the sounds were soothing or distracting. One student reported that she began to anticipate the waves of the sound. Students did note, however, that they no longer noticed the clock, or other sounds in the building.

Week 3 (60 seconds)
Continuing with the breath, I gave gave students the option of feeling the breath entering and leaving the body. They were invited to note where they felt the breath most distinctly.

Session #5: The students were very chatty and talkative at the beginning of the class period. When I asked them to assume their posture for the session, they immediately became quiet and focused. Students demonstrated the capacity to concentrate and focus when asked.
Student Feedback: Students enjoyed the structure associated with the instruction to “focus on the breath” rather than the open-ended request to sit and do nothing. One student visualized the body expanding and contracting while breathing, another timed their breathing with the sound of the clock, and another noted that she was “box breathing” during the session. Students did note the awareness of thoughts, but to a much lesser degree than previous sessions.

While I’m not ready to draw a conclusion, I will note that the class sessions have generally been more focused and task-oriented since the onset of the study. The class is able to stay on task for longer periods of time, and to regain focus more quickly after being distracted.

Session #6: Today, I decided to see how much of a routine we have established and decided not to give any specific instructions for the practice. I asked the students to take their seats, get into position, and I started the bell.

Students again noticed the awareness of sounds. (There was work going on in the theater shop adjacent to the rehearsal space, every student noted hearing a saw and the smell of sawdust.) A student was very tuned in to the meditation bell. Another continued to box breathe as she did in the last session.

One student tried to intuit that the purpose of this exercise was to “calm her mind.” I asked if she was successful and she said, “maybe.” The student noticed the presence of thoughts, but also that they passed (or receded) when she focused on the breath. I found it interesting that students were drawing upon the cultural understanding of “meditation” in lieu of specific instructions from me.

Final note: a student brought in donuts to share and I thought the sugar made everyone a little chattier than normal in today’s class. At one point, sitting in my chair, I asked the students to “take a second to focus,” closed my eyes, and everyone immediately stopped talking and assumed their seated meditation positions. It was absolutely awesome.

Week 4 (60 seconds)
This week, I did a bit of guiding during the meditation period. I asked the students to start the session with 3 deep, full breaths, and then to let the breath relax into its natural rhythm.

Session #7
I think my guiding increased the focus on the breath.
Student Feedback: A student commented that she focused on getting “good, quality breaths.” Students became more adept at naming and noting their distractions.

Session #8
I started rehearsal today by asking students to take their seats, and to prepare for the 1-minute meditation session. After the session I shared with them what I hoped that they would learn from the experience. I shared the following:
1. In a culture that prizes “doing” I thought it would be interesting to explore “not doing.”
2. It is totally normal to notice that your mind is very active.
3. We can develop the skill to manage our thoughts, so that they don’t overwhelm us.
4. We can develop the skill to quiet the mind and to focus on specific tasks like breathing.
5. We can apply what we have learned in our lives outside the meditation session.

Next class, I’ve framed this as an optional 5-minute meditation session. I’m curious to see who chooses to attend.

Midweek Meditation (11)

[Originally published on choralnet.org, December 28, 2022]

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end. (“Closing Time”)

Tell me you are a member of Generation X, without telling me you are a member of Generation X:
(Starts final blog with a quote from the song “Closing Time” by Semisonic)

This column marks the end of my series on mindfulness and meditation on ChoralNet. This past summer, I became interested in blogging about my meditation practice here because I wanted to see if I could integrate my interest in meditation and mindfulness with my career as a choral musician. Because meditation has changed my perspective on life and work so drastically, I hoped to introduce some of the benefits a meditation practice can have for you, and when appropriate, your singers and students. I didn’t emphasize the science of meditation in my blogs, but for those of you that are “data-driven,” meditation has been the subject of decades of research that has demonstrated the positive impact it has on the health and function of the brain. A recent article in The Chronicle of Higher Education noted a new awareness of meditation’s benefits that has led to courses in meditation being offered on college and university campuses across the country. Where secular meditation practice once lived primarily in the business and sports spheres, and is performance based, mainstream culture is beginning to realize the role meditation can play in promoting overall wellness. I’m convinced that meditation in the choral context can do both things, improve performance and contribute to the well-being of conductors and singers.

Throughout my journey, I found inspiration in the work of two individuals in the choral wellness space, for lack of a better term, and if you are not familiar with their work, I hope you will seek out their contributions to this topic. First, I am regularly inspired by the work of Ramona Wis through her blog “The Conductor as Yogi.” I find something to meditate upon in each of her blogs and her approach to the practice deeply resonates with me. I’ve also been moved by the insight and work of Jaclyn Normandie, a choral conductor, yogi, and author of The Mindful Musician. Both women are terrific conductor-teachers and I’m happy that our shared interest in meditation, mindfulness, yoga, and music have allowed our paths to intersect.

In the coming year, I’ll be pursuing opportunities to deepen my meditation practice and to practice in community with other like-minded individuals. I’ll be exploring the more overtly spiritual side of the practice, which, in my opinion, is not at all controversial, but should not be imposed on anyone without their desire and consent to learn, especially singers or students under our charge in choir. I’m not sure where this next part of the path may lead but, at the same time, am trying to be open to whatever the future may hold. Thanks for reading.

Steve Grives, D.M.A., is a choral conductor, certified meditation teacher, and Visiting Professor of Music at Shepherd University, Shepherdstown, West Virginia. He can be reached with questions or comments through his email, smgrives@gmail.com.

Solstice

December 22, 2022

Yesterday was the Winter Solstice here in the northern hemisphere where I live, and I celebrated the end of the year by building a small fire in my yard. I have a cheap fire pit, and I bought a batch of supermarket wood, found some newspaper, and started a fire with some of the branches and twigs from around the yard. While I sat and tended to the fire, I thought about the people that started these traditions: people who observed the cyclical changes in the natural world and then created stories to explain the things they observed. Many of the solstice, Yule, and Christmas traditions are also just practical ways to try to survive during Winter.

I’m attracted to the times of the year that emphasize rebirth or renewal: winter and spring, New Year’s, even the beginning of the academic year. Times like these remind me that you always have a chance to begin again.

I created my own “letting go” ceremony to accompany my solstice fire. I burned some letters I’d been holding on to, and did some mental releasing as well. I’m over a decade removed from some major milestones in my life – changing jobs, the passing of my father, and while historically I’ve been inclined to “move on” from things without giving them much thought…later realizing that I didn’t move on from these things at all, I think 10 years is enough time to account for, process, and release my feelings surrounding these events. Or, maybe not. At the very least, I’m giving myself the space to let go as many times as necessary. And by taking the pressure off of myself to move on immediately (didn’t work, it was just avoidance) or to tell myself the same stories over and over again for a decade (I think that’s called rumination), I’m attempting to free myself of the hold these feelings and emotions have had over me. This solstice, and this upcoming year, I’m letting go.