The Conductor as Yogi: Deep Processing

I’m a deep processor by nature.  I think through most tasks and plans in a detailed way, use my foresight to the best of my ability and yes, sometimes take a long time making even a simple decision (please, no 8-page restaurant menus for me).

Deep processing, I have read, is a sign of intelligence (I’ll take it) but it is also the benefit, and sometimes fallout, of being a maker of art.  We hear sound possibilities in our mind and consider countless ways to get there.  We navigate shifting landscapes: different singers from semester to semester, season to season; new musical trends and repertoire that intrigue or puzzle us; and chaotic world landscapes that influence our broader lives and the impact we hope to have.  

Deep processing keeps our mind active (good) but may be rooted in emotional states that keep our nervous system on high alert (not so good).  When deep processing is anchored in fear, a common state for conductors living their lives on the very public concert hall (or gymnasium) stage, we can find ourselves on shaky ground.  Always waiting for the other shoe to drop or for some kind of confirmation of our work and by association (unhealthfully), our worth as humans.  We never really relax and rarely have the wider view to see how fortunate we are and how interesting this life and the people in it, can be.

But when we are in “flow,” that state where we are authentically ourselves, sharing our deep processing in ways that are natural for us, that is our best life.  While we can’t know what our singers will be like on any given day (though as a deep processor, I use my intuition and external factors to make my best guess), we can take a moment to remind ourselves how it feels to create at our best.  What frees us to teach really, really well; to inspire—challenging, not pushing, singers to discover they are and can do more than they imagine—and to enjoy rehearsal itself as a deep process. 

At this point in my career, I definitely have more “flow experiences” than not.  But it is not a given; there are days I leave rehearsal feeling like I have been through an obstacle course.  So of course, I deeply process that and consider the alternative.  

I really love these singers.  They are interesting and compassionate.  They are willing but definitely need a reason for what I ask them to do, when I say, “it’s not there yet.”  They enjoy having fun and being with each other.  But they are dealing with all kinds of physical, academic, relational, financial, and existential uncertainties . . .  and all of that shows up in rehearsal.  Enter Me.  What is my role?

Make really good music by seeing these singers as human.  Remember how and why Music reaches into our hearts and grabs on and won’t let go.  And understand that these singers are me—that whoever walks into our rehearsal space is not the “other,” the “lesser,” the “not arrived where we are,” or whatever label we subconsciously give them.  This can be freeing.  And then—the “aha moment”— we can see that the only way to bring this mélange together is to be who we are, teach as a co-lover of art rather than as a figurehead, acknowledge the unspoken (“I know it’s difficult to sing this passage yet again—you are so over it . . . .”), and encourage, rather than demand, the next best step forward.

I had one of the best flow days I can remember earlier this week.  I just did my thing, led warm-ups with new adaptations, laughed along the way, “dared” them to be musical, smiled when I challenged them, asked lots of questions, connected our work to their larger life, reminded them that class means rehearsing well but also performing well, so how about we make this final run a performance . . . and just stayed in the moment.  Instead of tired, we were energized—and grateful.

Where will we direct our deep processing energy?  To what we cannot control? To the real or imagined judgment of others that keeps us on high alert?  Or what we can control – our actions, words, strategies, honesty (appropriately framed), respect, and joy in the moment, much deeper in our core than “happiness.”  Aware of opportunities to embrace our best self by letting go to self, discovering that our uniqueness is our path to living our best lives.  Making a difference for the better and knowing that our lives can be a light to others, to our art, and to our corner of the world.

Dr. Ramona Wis is the Mimi Rolland Endowed Professor in the Fine Arts, Professor of Music, and Director of Choral Activities at North Central College in Naperville, Illinois and the author of The Conductor as Leader:  Principles of Leadership Applied to Life on the Podium (and video course through Forward Motion, https://www.fwdmotion.org/sp-ramonawis-conductorasleader ).  Dr. Wis is a 500-hour CYT (Certified Yoga Teacher) and a certified Brain Longevity® Specialist.  Find her at:  or ramonawis.com.