This spring, many of us are adapting to a new normal of keeping up with our regular routines while staying home.
So far, I've been able to clock-in and break a sweat from my living room, but one of my favourite habits hasn't been so easy to incorporate at home — my sound-based meditation [1] sessions.
As a meditation [2] newbie who struggles with calming my racing thoughts and tempering my fidgety body, incorporating crystal singing bowls into my practice has been a game-changer.
Since the bowls' vibrations make sound baths so rejuvenating, I've always assumed that a video class would dilute the experience completely.
Similarly to listening to Spotify versus going to a concert, the adrenaline-rush of a live show rarely compares to a pre-recorded soundtrack.
So, I left my practice in New York as I travelled to Massachusetts for an indefinite stint of social distancing [4].
It only took two weeks for sound baths [5] to follow me home in the form of a work email.
I was invited to a free virtual class hosted by Susy Markoe Schieffelin, a certified yoga instructor, reiki master, sound healer, and CEO of The Copper Vessel [6].
Compelled by the session's focus on aiding anxiety, I decided to ditch my preconceived notions and give the 10-minute meditation my all.
And with that, I crawled into bed and followed along with guided breath.
Within seconds, I jumped right back into my practice — it was the familiar rings that grounded me to a calming place, both mentally and physically.
While I didn't feel the vibrations as strongly throughout my body, I was taken aback by the many benefits the virtual class offered that in-person sessions didn't.
My perfectly plush mattress made getting comfortable and laying still immensely easier. Surrounding myself with my favourite pillows, blankets, and candles [8] further induced my state of ease.
There was no reason to feel self-conscious when I let out a loud exhale, nor was I distracted by the rumblings of others around me. I was completely free of judgement and self-doubt.
My room provided a safe space, while the recognisable sounds of the singing bowls immediately stabilized my mood. As my two comfort zones collided, they seamlessly complemented each other.
While I never need an excuse to crawl into bed, sliding under the covers is more empowering than ever. As long as I have a sound-based meditation on hand, I know I have a secluded space at-home to combat feelings of worry and stress.