Sing a song for me.

Singing is one of the great free gifts given to us by the Creator. Everyone can sing despite what people say about having tin ears, or sounding like cats in heat. Most people carry a tune well, the rest need a little instruction to focus their hearing, that’s all.
Singing also doesn’t need extra equipment to get started; open your mouth and carol along with songs on the radio, TV or whatever, liberate feelings of joy and contentment in the shower, or while doing chores around the house or garden.
I wonder how many choirs and singing groups there are in the world, from just a few folk to large groups of people who meet regularly to sing together. Perhaps it’s only for the fun of it, or maybe by working hard, the group wishes to challenge their musicality and produce a glory of sound that is bound to get the attention of the Gods. I particularly like the a cappella choirs of St Petersburg singing Rachmaninoff’s Evening Vespers. Goose bumps on goose bumps!
In opera, singing achieves a very high standard, but more than that it brings together performers from many countries, who set aside their national differences and focus completely on the singing of a Mozart or Verdi opera, for example. I have a DVD of The Marriage of Figaro (Mozart), in which at least eight countries are represented, with the production sung in Italian and performed in London.
Sitting together with friends and singing is the greatest pleasure; years ago we used to have a folksong night at the house every month, and it was nothing for fifty to a hundred people to show up, armed with instruments, and sing the night away.
The pain of loneliness and separation, the loss of companionship can be soothed away by song. Often somebody finds their own inner voice through singing, and from that moment on they begin to grow into the person they were destined to be.



  1. Thanks for that reminder. I tend to sing spontaneously as I walk along, grocery store, garbage detail, on the way to wherever and back. People smile at me secretly, thinking, no doubt, that I’ve lost it. I rather think I’ve found it..
    Singing brings out the best in old forgetful minds; just strike up the band and the words come back every time. Like poetry or the steps to a long lost dance craze, it’s something to do with rhythm and the human heart that we feel right down to our toes.
    I often wonder why people do not sing in the old ways anymore, at home, in bunches, Saturday night. The best singing is done cleaning the dishes (by hand) after a big dinner; four-part harmony in the kitchen. Long car-trips, rocking and rhyming out the miles, show me the way to go home, la la la la…….

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