Early morning sunlight pierced the bug netting on my hammock, making shifting patterns on my bare legs. As I lay at the very brink of waking consciousness, I became aware of the sound of a woman crying. Then I drifted back to sleep. The sound of crying evoked such an ache in my heart, such deep grief, that in my half-sleeping state, I wondered if I was the one who was crying.
Just slightly more alert, I listened. No, it wasn’t my voice. Maybe the woman in the apartment downstairs is crying.
Still hovering at the edge of sleep, I became aware of the fact that the cry of howler monkeys was merging with the sound of the woman’s grieving. How precious. They feel her pain. The monkeys are grieving with her. My heart opened in empathy and tears formed in my eyes as I joined their circle of grief.
Finally fully awake, I realized the sound of a woman crying wasn’t coming from downstairs. It was coming from one of the monkeys. She let out a high pitched moan, and all the other howlers added their croaks, groans and howls. More monkeys were gathering and the pitch and volume of the cacophony increased. Male howlers added deep barking sounds.
For the past month, I’ve lived in the company of these howlers who inhabit the tree outside my patio overlooking the ocean in Tamarindo, Costa Rica. Never once have I heard them moan like a woman crying. Equally intriguing was the depth and range of vocalization in the other monkeys. To my ear, it sounded like empathy. I envisioned the male monkeys providing a container of support, a stable platform for the female to vocalize grief.
My heart was bereft. I felt a sound well up in my chest, a moan of grief and loneliness. It was something soft and precious. A hum of expression, acknowledging my own deep, sacred well of emotion.
The sound of grief transported me back to my ayahuasca ceremony, where my soul joined with those who were processing this deep and holy emotion of sorrow. As a person who spent four years without feeling anything, I wept with gratitude for the opportunity to share their grief with them. The sanctity of the moment was profound. Grief is such a precious gift.
In ceremony, as my full spectrum of emotions awakened, each was met with a sound. At first, I was embarrassed to vocalize these sounds, because most of the pleasurable ones sounded erotic. Joy, peace, harmony, love, satisfaction and even affirmation all sound distinctly sensual. I realized that sex is one of the few times we tap into this wordless form of expression!
When I finally began to softly utter those sounds associated with my full range of emotions, the range itself expanded and each emotion was assimilated more deeply, processed more profoundly. The sounds helped integrate every emotion into the center my being, assuring me that this new-found ability to feel wouldn’t disappear when the ceremony ended.
Yesterday, I attended a full day workshop called “The Medicine of Your Voice” with Bettina Maureenji, a globally recognized sound healer, voice empowerment coach and recording artist. The synchronicity of attending a sound healing workshop in Tamarindo just two weeks after my ayahuasca sound journey blew my mind!
At the workshop, Bettina taught us that in Hinduism, sonic intonation plays a central role in reciting the mantras. The vowel sounds are considered sacred.
Not only does pitch, resonance and frequency play a role in expressing emotion through sound, but the shape of the mouth, the tongue and bone structure impact that expression as well. As a writer, I use words to paint a picture in a reader’s minds. Using sound, I discovered I am capable of painting pictures in the heart.
Ironically, connecting with the howler monkeys made me more profoundly grateful for the opportunity to connect with other human beings. Empathy is truly our most precious gift, and one I’ve deeply neglected. My life’s work from this point forward will be to explore how many ways I can cultivate authentic connections with the beautiful, precious, sentient beings that share this planet with me.
