Two years ago I started taking singing classes. Let me say right off that I’m not a singer. My voice is okay but not amazing.
[Sidebar: As a kid I fantasized about walking up to the mic in a pub somewhere, and opening my mouth to sing, and total silence would fall, and everyone’s jaw would drop, because WOW! I was unbelievably talented and mesmerizing, and no one had had the slightest notion of my talent.
This fantasy I have since fulfilled vicariously, in my book (in that one of the characters has a jaw-dropping singing voice).]
The singing class I joined because of low-back pain that worsened whenever I gave lectures. I’d feel nothing at all while teaching—in fact, I was oblivious to my own body, as if I existed only from the chin up—but as soon as I dismissed the students it would hit me like a truck.
I started because of the pain, but I stayed because of the teacher. Fides Krucker’s vocal talents are no secret to anyone in Canada’s performing-arts scene, but she is also an incandescently gifted teacher. While learning to integrate my body and brain I am also learning from Fides how to teach more humbly and holistically.
And the emphasis may be on the body’s wordless emotional truths, but these truths are continually articulated by Fides—and by my fellow students–in a lyrical, literary blend of anecdote, example, poetry and associative response.
I feel like an initiate on a path of ancient rite and wisdom. That is how fertile and mysterious the process has been.
And that makes Fides my High Priestess.