Often, what wants to move through me, doesn’t come as words. It comes as voice, sounds, humming. Layered, wordless, what is often called “light language”. I don’t mind the name, though. For me it’s simply my inner world finding a way out through sound, without my mind deciding the shape of it in the first place.

I sing what I find inside: Tension, stillness, love, the movements underneath the surface of that exact day. No beats, no complex production, just plain as it comes.

What I notice myself, and what I receive from others, too, is: it’s simply soothing to listen to. It’s something to put on when we lost ourselves for a moment, while traveling, when having a hard time, to feel ourselves in the morning, or even when a child needs to come back to its body. It can help something settle, become quiet and connected. It’s a way back to the center when there’s been too much.