Wellness

The Conductor as Yogi: Know Thyself

January 11, 2022 by Ramona Wis Leave a Comment

“Know Thyself”

Ancient Greek maxim

The new year traditionally brings resolutions—you know, the same ones we make most years and which, in about two weeks, sort of disappear . . . ? It’s hard to avoid the idea that we “should” be doing something new when the calendar rolls over. And yet, January 1^st can bring discouragement even before we start on a plan of improving our lives in some way.

Lasting change needs a good reason, one that is internally motivated and authentically embraced. We all have experienced change imposed on us by an outside source or event (pandemic, anyone?). But if you look back at your life, the positive, lasting changes came only after some self-study, connecting deeply with who you are at your core, apart from the world’s opinion, to honor your place and follow your unique path of giftedness and contribution. Real change reflects decisions that you make based on knowing yourself, not based on everyone else’s expectation of you.

In the yoga tradition, self-study is Svādhyāya, one of the inner observances or behaviors that make up the Niyamas, the second of yoga’s Eight Limbs. Nicolai Bachman (2011) describes the benefits of svādhyāya this way:

“Through svādhyāya it is possible to understand anything about ourselves. Self-observation is the key to understanding who we truly are. . . . [S]elf-observation gives us the power to convert old, harmful behavior into new, helpful action.”

Bachman, pp. 197-8

Self-study is not self-absorption, self-pity, or self-aggrandizement. It is stepping outside ourselves with the most objective eye possible (not easy) and watching what we do and when; learning what takes us off center and what loops we keep running even if we know, intellectually and emotionally, it leads us away from what we really want. Self-study helps us recognize whose opinion we value more than our own and if we stay with it long enough, to learn why that is. Self-study also helps us see what we do really well, with the most joy and least (felt) effort or to see how we might have evolved over time, which can help us redefine our goals for the future.

Svādhyāya is focused on learning about our true self, the one that is not concerned with how we look to the outer world. Until we “know thyself,” we can’t live an authentic life and will continue to make choices that don’t feel right because they aren’t, to us. In our professional life, this could show up as programming repertoire we think we “should” do, even though we don’t really connect with it as a conductor, have no interest in teaching it, or it’s not what our ensembles need or can reasonably perform right now. Or it may push us to take a job with an impressive title even if our heart and unique skill set are really most joyously suited to the middle school choir.

Knowing thyself has incredible benefits. When we stop living someone else’s life, we experience a new-found enthusiasm and energy. Life feels more fluid, even amidst challenges, because we are operating from our true source. Knowing thyself opens the pathway to finding out how we can serve and offer our gifts in the way only we can, in this time and place we find ourselves. And this can motivate us to take better care of our physical and emotional bodies, as well.

We don’t need January 1^st to make change; we just need to study ourselves with a fresh pair of eyes, informed, as we choose, by inspirational or sacred writings that have stood the test of time.

“The ultimate goal is complete self-knowledge, with the realization that we are a changing outer shell surrounding a pure, unchanging, inner light of awareness.”

Bachman, 198

“Know thyself” has some merit, it turns out.

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. Dr. Wis is a 500-hour CYT (Certified Yoga Teacher) with training in yoga history, philosophy, meditation, energetics, pranayama (breath work), anatomy, Sanskrit, and the teaching, sequencing, and adaptations of asana (posture-based) practice. Reach her at:

Check out:

Nicholai Bachman, The Path of the Yoga Sutras: A Practical Guide to the Core of Yoga. Boulder, CO: Sounds True, Inc., 2011

The Conductor as Yogi: Dare to Pause

December 28, 2021 by Ramona Wis Leave a Comment

“Few things are so pressing that they cannot wait for a moment of breath.”

T.K.V. Desikachar

Maybe you have had this conversation, usually with family or friends who are not in music or in teaching:

Them: “Are you on break now? How nice that you have all that time off!”

Us: “Oh, I am never really off. There’s always programming for the next concert and score study and all the management and . . . .” (our list goes on).

There’s certainly truth in our response. Before we can walk into that first rehearsal after “break,” we have to choose repertoire and take the time to order it or find it in our libraries or arrange it for our imbalanced ensemble. We have to manage our rosters (who is returning? who has not answered my emails?), our spaces, our budgets, and our protocols (ever evolving). Even if you are the ultimate planner and make lots of decisions in the summer ahead of the season beginning, there are always tasks to be managed and surprises along the way.

What “break?”

My usual strategy has been to devote some time every day to work, getting the structure in place for the semester and concerts ahead and communicating with singers and others, where needed, in order to hit the ground running when we return. My intent in this daily practice is to spread out the work, to avoid an avalanche of tasks at the last minute. Generally, this works for me.

But there is a downside to this strategy, one that I have become more and more aware of.

Without any true pause in the workflow, we never really experience restoration— a physical, mental, and emotional “clearing,” a release from the decision making and time in our heads and in front of our devices that characterize our lives. Without a separation from the endless task list, we train ourselves to be “on” at every moment, to never fully let go, and to see life from one perspective: do. Without a pause we just keep churning it out and so, when we return to our teaching and conducting schedule “after the break” we feel like we never had one. Like we have been conducting one long musical piece that has no rests. Not one. Can you imagine how anxious and heavy we would feel with a piece like that, especially if it lasted for hours or days or weeks or months?

Yes, the ebb and flow of tempo, the variation in dynamics, the change of key—they all offer some modulation in our feeling state. But it is the rests in the score, the silence between movements, or in our mindfulness experience, the pause at the top of the inhale or bottom of the exhale, where something really powerful happens. Where we move from external to internal awareness, where we realize the effect of the action, and where creativity and insight and rebuilding of energy can take place.

Dare to pause. To truly detach, to stop, to observe, to sit. Trust that the space in time and heart and mind will bring what you need and surprise you in ways you cannot envision when constantly working. For a moment, or several moments during the day, or (most challenging), several days during the break, take a true pause. You might find that it punctuates everything else you do, giving it greater meaning and leading to a deeper experience, just like that artfully placed rest in the music where it all makes perfect sense.

The Conductor as Yogi: It Does Not Go Unnoticed

December 14, 2021 by Ramona Wis Leave a Comment

We made it through the semester. Our return to in-person music making. I have been reading our singers’ reflection papers, their one-page response to three prompts: What did you learn musically? What did you learn beyond the music? What suggestions do you have for the future?

On music, they wrote about re-learning how to sing with others, to blend their voices and listen in new ways, mask and all. About challenges and successes relative to the sight-reading skills they are dusting off (or never really had) and about stepping up to the level of collegiate singing. Suggestions include more chamber group singing (something we did as part of our post-concert assessment) but it’s the “what did you learn beyond the music” responses that really struck me, especially those about the breathing, mindfulness, and yoga-informed practices that I have been writing about and encourage you to explore with your singers. Here are some of their comments (used by permission, names have been changed):

Chloe: Beyond the music, I learned that moments of stillness throughout my day are just as important as being productive. When we would begin class with meditation and stretches, I noticed a difference in my attitude. I often would come to class tired and stressed but would leave feeling refreshed and happy. I have realized just how essential rest can be for my mental well-being, and I thank you for that!

Margo: I’ve also carried our yoga skills into my daily life; I find myself doing some deep breathing and stretches when I’m stressed and need a break.

Michael: I have also learned how to take better care of myself through different yoga exercises and mindsets. Remembering to breathe out everything I do not need in my mind/body, and to breathe in fresh air and peace has been extra present in my mind this semester. I have also been taking bigger breaths in our yoga exercises, which I think has carried over to being ready to sing well-supported.

Amy: I’ve learned so much about the connection between body and mind and about how beneficial it truly is for wellness, even after just doing a couple sun salutations before each rehearsal.

Kayla: Another skill I learned this semester was self-awareness. A few times you asked us to listen to ourselves while also listening to the choir as a whole and that helped me become more aware of my contributions. In addition, I have continued to use this skill in other aspects of my life. I will ask myself “what is my role here?” and “how do I fit into this group?”

Liam: By focusing my energy to the music, I was able to enjoy the music much more. I think that this goes for anything: if I spend the time learning something and remove all distractions, I can be much more productive.

Anne: Choir has also taught me how important our mental and physical wellbeing is in relation to our vocal and musical wellbeing. Whenever we would do sun salutations or short meditation exercises to ground ourselves and centralize our breathing, I would always notice how much more ready I felt for the musical lessons we would then go on to learn and for the rest of my day in its entirety. Even just a few moments of time to myself to not worry about any deadlines, obligations, or extraneous stresses and simply allow my body and mind to refresh were cause for replenishment in every aspect. This is not only important to remember in terms of choir, but also in terms of life. We are our one constant in our own lives, so we must do all we can to take care of ourselves along the way.

Kendra: This taught me a lesson that was important both in and out of a music context: that growth is not always linear. In my personal life I also found I was learning this as well this semester. With the return to in-person choir, with everything else, I found that I had lost some of the stamina I had developed pre-pandemic. This was frustrating to me at first, as I have always held myself to a high standard of consistent growth. However, I began to realize that growth does not always need to look like doing more, being more, but that growth can sometimes just look like being and that that can be enough.

As conductors, we hope that our teaching “sticks,” that singers learn at least the big things and that their experience is meaningful. But now, more than ever, we can be discouraged with the heaviness of life, with the limitations and challenges and uncertainty and fatigue. With decreased numbers and increased protocols. Does what we do really matter? Is there growth, musical and otherwise? Are we crazy to try new ideas, to take different approaches when the ground below us seems to shift every moment? Are we making a difference? Do our singers understand what we are trying to do on their behalf?

Maybe Sage’s comment says it all. Though she sent it to me, I extend it to all of you because I think it reflects what may not be said by your singers, yet is deeply felt:

Thank you for everything you did this term and continue to do for us. It does not go unnoticed.

As we end this season and prepare for the next, take a moment to rest and reflect and know that this work of your life matters. Not just what you do, but who you are, impacts every person who is fortunate to be in your path. And remember, even in the hardest times, we learn and grow and feed our soul, too. So if you are wondering whether this is all worth it, trust, take a breath, and keep going. It does not go unnoticed.

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. Dr. Wis is a 500-hour CYT (Certified Yoga Teacher) with training in yoga history, philosophy, meditation, energetics, pranayama (breath work), anatomy, Sanskrit, and the teaching, sequencing, and adaptations of asana (posture-based) practice. Reach her at:

The Conductor as Yogi: Living Seasonally

November 30, 2021 by Ramona Wis Leave a Comment

I am intrigued by the wisdom of living seasonally. Taking cues from the shifts in nature, in daylight and temperature and foods that are fresh and available. Living in harmony with the rhythms of nature goes a long way towards making us feel well. Instead of fighting the cold or the heat, the dampness or the wind, we can learn to adapt our schedules and our practices so that we don’t feel stressed and out of sync, particularly when considering our own unique “nature.”

The ancient holistic lifestyle science of Ayurveda describes the doshas, three different constitutional types that each of us has in variable prominence and which are rooted in the energies of nature.

According to Ayurvedic philosophy the entire cosmos is an interplay of the energies of the five great elements—Space, Air, Fire, Water and Earth. Vata, pitta and kapha are combinations and permutations of these five elements that manifest as patterns present in all creation. In the physical body, vata is the subtle energy of movement, pitta the energy of digestion and metabolism, and kapha the energy that forms the body’s structure.

The Ayurvedic Institute

Living seasonally begins by recognizing our own unique nature, becoming aware of our tendencies so we can see where and when we suffer excess or imbalance. The active mind and body of vata fuels creativity but can burn out without rest. The strength of the pitta leader may build powerful organizations but can lead to inflammation and anger if not tempered. The groundedness of kapha can provide security but also lead to sluggishness or a tendency to get stuck, moving little in thinking or action. (For insight into your unique dosha, check out the links below.)

We each possess vata, pitta, and kapha in different measure and the balance can shift due to stress or schedule, time of life, and the seasons of the year.

Each season ushers in a unique set of qualities that can either pacify or aggravate the inner workings of your being. This is why some people relish the heat of the summer while others loathe it, why some can spend an entire winter playing in the snow while others avoid it like the plague. Regardless of who you are, your local climate is a key player in your overall state of balance and well-being.

Melody Mischke, AP

Living seasonally combines an awareness of our unique nature with our willingness to adjust to the natural changes in seasons to find a balance that is right for us. Adapting our food choices, exercise and movement patterns, and sleep schedules to a seasonal change can go a long way to feeling and being well, regardless of the shorter days or the snow outside.

Learning to live seasonally can open a broader awareness in our personal development, as we consider the seasons of our lives and learn to let go of one reality so we can embrace a new pattern of being that resonates with who we are now.

Importantly, living seasonally teaches us that change is constant and that rebirth and refreshment always occur following periods of rest. We might say we want balance in our lives but if we continue to live in an unmitigated state of heightened stimulation, we do not allow ourselves to follow the natural order of things, of movement and repose, of warmth and cool, of building and maintaining.

How can you create your best life in this season, challenging the assumption that fatigue, inactivity, overeating, and crabbiness are necessary? Could this season—wherever you are in the world or in life—be the time you decide to live in accordance with nature and find a new way of being?

Tis’ the season, always. Be well!

Check out:

https://www.ayurveda.com/2021/08/24/ayurveda-a-brief-introduction-and-guide/

https://www.banyanbotanicals.com/info/ayurvedic-living/living-ayurveda/seasonal-guides/winter-guide/

https://kripalu.org/resources/ayurvedic-doshas

https://yogainternational.com/article/view/ayurvedas-guide-to-health-in-every-season

https://www.almanac.com/living-seasonally

https://thelivingwell.com/boost-your-metabolism-by-living-seasonally/

The Conductor as Yogi: Why I Yoga

November 16, 2021 by Ramona Wis Leave a Comment

We are busy people. We have full lives; we live at the center of a wheel that turns constantly, with professional, family, health, spiritual, and personal spokes of responsibilities, challenges, and joys. We bounce between feeling full and satisfied and just plain busy with lots of activities that don’t seem to be organized into anything purposeful. It is the way of modern life.

Doing a yoga practice can be yet another thing on that list. Something we “should” do, like laundry or bill paying or calling mom. Check. I admit, sometimes I take a class more out of obligation to the to-do list than anything else. But then, I arrive on the mat and realize why I yoga.

Yoga, most broadly, is a remarkably malleable life practice that provides a way to make sense of it all. When we need to stop and take a breath, yoga is there. A yoga practice is time, apart from everything and everyone else, to just pause. I know, sometimes we don’t really want to pause—we think we need to keep moving or else . . . . Or else what? Will we self-combust? Will a pause really undo us or just maybe, might it right the ship of our lives in ways that are so needed?

Yoga is a place for release. Of the breath we hold in all day or the muscles we lock without even knowing it. Of the external stressors and whirring thoughts that are often the same as yesterday and the day before. Of an identity we have built based on others’ expectations. A release of the rigidity not only of the body but of the creative mind and spirit.

Yoga is a source for inspiration. A place we come to know ourselves, because on the mat, no one is watching, judging, “liking,” or asking something of us. When we carve out time to stop and release and breathe, we allow our own voice to arrive front and center, emerging from the many others that crowd our mind and schedules and sadly, obscure our own inner source, our soul. On the mat, we “know” in ways that are hard to describe but unmistakable to recognize when it happens.

Yoga is interesting and practical. It is a different way of moving and thinking about our physical experience. It is invigorating to learn more about this body we walk around with and about how mind and body influence each other. We learn new ways to realign physically and to move more efficiently, whether simply walking, conducting, lifting your kiddos, singing, or training for a 10K.

Yoga teaches awareness that leads to clarity. How do I feel now? What do I need to let go of? Where in my body am I finding more freedom or imbalances? The simple stretch or twist or basic standing pose brings us from the outer sheath of the physical body, inward, to deeper and more subtle sheaths, or koshas, of energy, mind, wisdom, and bliss. So simple and yet profound, so hard to articulate and yet so real, an hour on the mat (or a half hour or 10 minutes) brings us back to a place of strength.

Yoga is anywhere I am. I don’t need to go to a studio. I can practice at home with an online class or outside on vacation or in the rehearsal by breathing mindfully, focusing my attention, and adapting movement or postures to the musical environment. I can release physical holding while standing in line at the grocery store or balance my inhales and exhales while stuck in traffic. Yoga is always available.

Yoga is a great connector. It supports every other part of our lives once we see the intersections. My professional life as a teacher, leader, and choral conductor has been informed in countless ways as I learn to let go of the outcomes of my work, even as I dedicate myself more earnestly to it. Service, love, and being still and listening are central tenets of my personal faith tradition, which yoga has supported. Physical health and wellness practices of yoga and its sister science, Ayurveda, reset me and remind me to honor the physical vessel that houses my spirit and makes it possible for me to be in this world where on my best days, I can make it a little better.

Yoga is inclusive. You don’t need a PhD to access it; you don’t need to be “in shape” to practice it; you don’t need to prove anything before you arrive on the mat. Yoga is a space—for you, for me, for anyone, a tradition to be honored and welcomed for the gift that it is. We roll out the mat, breathe, let go, and learn about ourselves as we grumble about our physical challenges (“aw, c’mon, not that pose”) and learn to work through them. We smile and relax and feel a part of a community, even a virtual community that might be practicing with us. We listen and learn and even laugh at our own foibles (I sometimes call it humility training). We get back on track and thank ourselves for putting in the time to do something that will help us be more whole and at peace, even for a moment. Yoga applauds us—for showing up, for being willing, and for being who we are.

The Conductor as Yogi: Speed Trap

November 2, 2021 by Ramona Wis Leave a Comment

In this age of rush, nothing is more critical than moving slowly.

~Tias Little~

Tias Little is an internationally known yoga teacher and brilliant writer. His most recent book, The Practice is the Path (2020) is a compelling read, even if you don’t practice yoga. His explorations include emptying before you begin, right effort, not knowing, and more, but it was his chapter on how speed gets trapped in the body that really hit me.

“We are a culture of speed,” Little begins. “In the accelerated pace of today’s world, the body’s physiological rhythms are amped up.” (37) Speed disrupts circulatory flow, electrochemical signals, and the movement of fluids, and throws off digestion, sleep, hormonal balance, and respiration, “compromising the body’s capacity to self-correct or self-regulate.” He continues:

“When caught in pressurized speed traps of stress and overwork, the body’s homeostasis is disturbed. With speed trapped in the body, we are prone to sleeplessness, hypertension, inflammation, autoimmune disease, irritable bowel syndrome, chronic pain, and erratic temper. . . . Speed constricts the heart while amplifying pressure in the circulatory vessels throughout the body.” (38)

Just reading this made me stop what I was doing and slow my breathing. We know all about being busy and we know being rushed doesn’t feel good, but have we made the connection between the speed of modern life and the physical changes in our body? And are we conscious of the triggers that kick us into speed mode, into our own form of frenzy, even when we appear to be in control to a watching world?

Speed trapped in our body saps our energy, clouds our thinking, presses us to make poor decisions (or “freeze” and make none at all), and limits our creativity. Habitual rushing teaches us to “hurry even when we have nowhere to go” (40) so we grab our phone to check what happened since the last time we looked (30 seconds ago) and we create unnecessary tasks when we have a free five minutes, instead of just taking a pause.

In the long term, speed can cause or worsen a whole host of health conditions. Speed can compromise relationships with ourselves and others. A rushed life prevents us from operating at the level of our true selves because we have not slowed down enough to remember who we are and to create healthy boundaries that bring us back into balance.

“One of the primary aims of a regular self-care practice is to help reset the body’s internal clock and support its regulatory functioning. This requires, first and foremost, slowing down.” (43)

I know, you “just don’t have time right now.” But having time is more about self-awareness and decision making; even (maybe mostly) in changing the way we think. Moving from reactive to mindful, from externally imposed to internally chosen, significantly changes how we feel and how our body responds to busyness.

Without slowing down to breathe and think clearly, we spin our wheels and create more work for ourselves. Unless we carve out focused time for an important task or relationship, we can’t go deep enough to see the challenge and begin to know how to meet it. And until we acknowledge our speed-driven life, we allow our destiny to be determined by . . . who, exactly?

“In an age of speed . . . nothing could be more invigorating than going slow. In an age of distraction, nothing can feel more luxurious than paying attention. And in an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still.”

~Pico Iyer~

It’s time to change our perspective on speed, to slow down enough to live our lives well. This requires us to release our grasp on control or the appearance of importance (“I’m so busy . . .”). It means facing what might await us when we take the time we think we don’t have. But slow can be healing, insightful, even, as Little calls it, “exhilarating.”

Take a slow breath. Look at someone and be present. Pause a moment before you respond. Unclench and stop gripping. Move your phone out of sight. Find a place you can go to remove distractions, even if it is your bathroom. Quit thinking “I’m always behind.” Say no to something you don’t really need or want to do. Stop owning other people’s emergencies. Plan well and then let go. Be selective in your comments to singers in rehearsal, rather than racing through so many directives that they—and you—can’t keep up. Do. One. Thing.

Rollo May wrote, “It is an old and ironic habit of human beings to run faster when we have lost our way.” Life will not make time for us; we must make time for life. Let’s resist the culture of speed, slow down, and find our way again.

Check out:

The Practice is the Path: Lessons and Reflections on the Transformative Power of Yoga by Tias Little

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1611807379/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_B9NJE8R40349W84EV4XP

The Art of Stillness: Adventures in Going Nowhere by Pico Iyer, quote, pg. 66

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1476784728/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_KNYTZWRYV1Z90ZMVQR36

Laughter is great medicine—check out this classic clip to help you “slow down:”

https://youtu.be/uNmnroyJSzo