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Thursday, March 29, 2012

Emergence by Tangee

I’m struggling to quantify the experiences of the past few days.  Typically I find writing to be the easiest form of expression, but revealing this is proving to be something of a challenge.  I am still conflicted about what happened and what it means.  Perhaps it is best to simply tell the story and let you draw your own meanings and conclusions from it.

Let me say firstly that I find it very difficult to deal with certain emotions.  Grief, anger, pain and sorrow are particularly hard for me to experience.  I’ve spent a great deal of time learning how to avoid feeling these things.   On the rare occasions where I have allowed these feelings to surface, I’ve found the resulting loss of self-control to be intolerable.  This is not to say that I am a cold or detached person.  I am very warm and loving.  I make friends easily and find my place in social groups pretty easily.  I am almost always the counselor or the care giver.  I say these things so you will understand the absolute bewilderment and horror that gripped me when I found myself on my knees in my living room, forehead pressed into the carpet, weeping and wailing and screaming for MEANING on an otherwise perfectly pleasant Tuesday afternoon.

Nothing precipitated this explosion of emotion.  No one said unkind words to me, cut me off in traffic, or otherwise made me feel less than.  It was an average to fair day in so far as interactions with others might be measured.  However, honest reflection tells me that I had been carrying a very heavy load of grief, anger and sorrow about my mother’s cancer and the impact it has on my life and our family.  I was angry she had hidden it from me.  I was angry that I had uprooted my urban life and given up my place on a waiting list for a loft I really wanted because I felt it was more important that I be near her during her illness.  I was sad to have lost that lifestyle and had not grieved for the possibilities.  I was angry with her siblings, who called me constantly, and made me feel like I was not being as forthcoming with information as I should be and I was angry at them for not being here with her.  I was sad that my son’s visit had been brief and that he had chosen a college so far away from me.  I had been carrying these things, refusing to feel these bad feelings, for weeks, if not months.  

So, when I found myself on that floor, demanding that the Source tell me my purpose, I was shocked, amazed and amused.  If I had the attention of the Divine- why was I asking about myself?  Why wasn’t I demanding a cure for my mother?  Why wasn’t I demanding that her siblings be nearer?  Why wasn’t I demanding that my son decide to go to college in the state where I had a mainline to EVERYTHING and I wanted to know what I was supposed to do with my life?  Was I really that selfish?

And, so, rebuffed by silence, I picked myself up off the floor and went about my evening as if nothing had happened.  I phoned some friends and discussed what I thought was my first nervous breakdown.  I went to bed, exhausted, perplexed and more than a little pissed off.  The next day I woke up and found some chakra meditations with my i-phone.  I lay down upon the very same floor I had been screaming and crying on the night before and relaxed.  I meditated for an hour and slept for an hour longer.  I visited my mother.  I picked up a friend and drove out to a sacred site.  We chanted and prayed and shared.  I climbed up on a massage table and let two energy workers lay hands on me- something I’d never allowed before in my life.  And while I lay there, listening to the music and feeling the warm hands on my skin, I felt all my anger and grief and anxiety and sorrow slip away.  I began to hear a story in my head.

The next morning I woke early and wrote an entire book in under an hour.  I thought it was a miracle- the answer to my calls for guidance!  Only now do I recognize the true miracle: I let go.  The space that had been occupied by all that hurt, and the energy I had been using to keep it contained was transformed.    Where there once was grief and sorrow and anger, there was now the voice of the Divine, a connection to my Source, and a feeling of absolute certainty.  If I could wish one wish for you today, it would be that after reading this you decide to sit back, examine your uglies and then let them go.  Let go of your burdens and use your hands to hold onto your dreams instead.  That space inside you was made for something bigger, better and far more beautiful than anger, grief or sorrow. 

 Just let go.

~ A wyld womyn called Tangee

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Music as a Method of Healing by Tanya Brody

Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast,
To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.
I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd,
And, as with living Souls, have been
By Magick Numbers and persuasive Sound.

These first five lines of William Congreve’s poem, The Mourning Bride, (1697) show the power that music has had over the human race for centuries. When we speak of “being lifted up” by a piece of music or “being moved,” we are referring to the energy that courses through our bodies when we hear a glorious set of notes strung together in a way that appeals to us. 

Sound travels in waves and these vibrations affect us physically as well as emotionally. Some people put on soothing music to get rid of a headache. Others perform their yoga routine to music, presumably for something enjoyable to listen to, but the sound also enhances the movement, adding to the healing potential.
Our group, The Idisi, uses sound vibration as a healing modality. By setting an intention, let’s say, healing the waters, or sending healing energy to a specific person or area of the world, and allowing our subconscious to voice whatever feels “right” at that moment, our group of 30 women works together to create amazing sound healing and send it wherever it needs to go. 

Please keep in mind, this is a group of women of all different backgrounds, vocal ability and training, all opening our mouths and letting sound come out. By opening ourselves to the task and hand and to each other, we are able to create some of the most powerful and amazing music ever heard, and never to be heard again.  Each piece we perform is unique in its beauty. The only way to “recreate” any of what we do is through recording, which we have done, producing our debut album, “chanty- WHOO-hah.”

By understanding the deeply spiritual nature of sound, we are able to channel it through our voices to where we wish it to go. This is not some superhuman feat; this is a talent everyone in the world has if they choose to do it. One of the great wonders of music is that it is universal. When a person starts singing in any language, people can enjoy the sound and feel the rhythm, no matter where they are from or whether or not they understand the words. That same power exists in all of us and takes little or no training to invoke.

In all energy work, the theory is that the energy created or channeled will go where it is needed. The beauty of music is that its sound enters through the ears but the sound waves go through the entire body, sending energy throughout the system. What’s more, because music is something that exists in every culture, there is no natural aversion to something that is “different” in terms of receiving the healing energy, as sometimes happens with people who are unfamiliar with energy work in its many forms.

The power of music as a healing modality is substantial and should not be ignored. Modern medicine is taking this to heart, with music therapists becoming much more common in hospitals and musicians coming into hospice situations to soothe the way for those who are at the end of life. 

So take some time to listen to music today, after all, it’s good for you.

Tanya Brody is a professional Harper/Singer/Songwriter, copywriter and member of The Idisi. Her music can be found at

You can learn more about and hear The Idisi at our website, Our album of vibrational chant, “chanty- WHOO- hah” is available on our site, through amazon, CD Baby and iTunes

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Poetic thoughts of a wyld woman-Jenny G

I find myself in a garden. It is not one that is precisely planted, neatly pruned and color coordinated, or contained by fences and moats. This garden’s beauty is in the way it grows wherever the wind blows, however the sun shines, and wherever the water flows. Its beauty is in the diversity of its inhabitants, and in the way they blend together to stun the eye and soothe the mind. I watch each flower growing taller, stronger, more beautiful and fragrant as time goes by. They reach for the sun and giggle in the breeze, and reaching deep under the earth they sing with all their being to the waters that nourish them.

As I admire the divine garden around me and ponder its intertwinement with the universe, I see my reflection in the water. I too am growing and singing with the others! My joy grows as I realize that there is no window I’m looking through, no painting I’m gazing at, no dream I’m waking from, but I can feel my body swaying in the breeze. I can hear my voice blending with the others, and we brush against each other to the rhythm of the cosmos. When the sun is blazing too brightly, one flower holds its leaves above the other before the favor is asked. After the rain pours down in torrents, sisterly blossoms nudge each other to spring back toward the sun and allow healing to begin again. We are a glorious, fragrant garden rich in blessings.

If one doubts her ability to sing, grow, love, sway, comfort or contribute, the others chide her gently point out that none are void of flaws. They remind her that each mistake or disappointment can become another opportunity for growth and learning. Their love encourages her love and together they transform painful events into a powerful medicine that compounds strength by incalculable numbers.

If one forgets to comfort another or spends too much time in meditation on her own being, the others guide her attention to the whole garden and its needs. Our strength is in our unity. No contribution is too small. No mistake is unforgivable. Our power is in our ability to adapt to the world we live in, and support each other in success and in failure. Trust grows; love grows.

Allowing ourselves to see from another’s perspective without forgetting our own allows ourselves to grow and improve. Becoming more aware of others and ourselves allows us to be more open and honest, more loving and accepting, and to choose how we respond to circumstances rather than reacting. We begin to participate in and create our journey. Not desiring control, but seeing possibilities.

I am so blessed to be a part of the divine collaboration known as The Idisi. 

The diversity of all the women involved and their shared passions and talents make up a beautiful garden that is at once changing and growing yet also firmly rooted in a mission to spread love and joy. It’s not a ruthless crusade of inflexible conversion, but rather a genuine presentation of what can be when you allow transformation to do its groovy thing. The Idisi is a being that exists, nurtures, gives and allows. Members, listeners, and followers come and go at will. Each is encouraged to follow their own life path, wherever it may take them. Love is limitless. I am surrounded and supported by the tremendous talent of singers, healers, teachers, seamstresses, linguists, performers, writers, chefs, dancers, warriors, drummers, mothers, wives, daughters and priestesses: my Idisi sisters. With them I am not only learning about music. I am learning to trust, appreciate, contribute, relax, support, believe, and most importantly, to just be.

“A good friend who points out mistakes and imperfections and rebukes evil is to be respected as if he reveals a secret of hidden treasure.”    -Siddhartha Gautama

Dreams of a Wyld Woman- Fjorgyn

Now I dream about Idisi all the time.  But the first time was two years 
before our inception.  And three years after the death of my dear friend 
In college I went through a terrible depression.   Its cause or result 
was that I lost most of my friends.  Many lessons were learned from 
that.  But Rachel was there through it all.  She was never my best 
friend. It is hard to say we were even close. But her door was always 
open.  I could always go there and not be alone.  This saved me.
In the dream I was at a house party and feeling very alone.  I don't 
deal well with groups of more than two including myself.  The house was 
strangely washed out and pastel. White and peach and light blue.  There 
was a plain white stairway leading up into a light.  Not a dazzling 
light. Sort of flat. Like fluorescent, or cloudy sunlight. But I 
couldn't see past it.
Rachel came down the stairs.  She was wearing a white, shapeless gown.  
He hair was long and her face cheerfull, like I knew it in college, not 
like when she was so sick.  She talked to me for a while about my life 
and aspirations. I don't rememebr what we said exactly.  Then she took 
me to a room. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to meet strangers.  She 
said, "You want to meet these."
She opened a door and there was a room full of women in white robes.   
They were sitting or standing casually. Talking to each other.  A few 
looked up at us, welcoming without any demands.  One was Dayne Jean. 
Hard to miss her. I didn't recognize any one else.
That was my first introduction to Idisi.