The Boy Who Howled

I wanted to share a little of my own experience with how singing and using my voice has helped me heal.

When I was a young boy, I had vocal nodules. Little bumps on my vocal cords that caused me to constantly lose my voice. For a kid who loved making noise, yelling, imitating animals, and doing funny voices, that was hard. I spent time in speech therapy during school, trying to get my voice back. And when I did have a voice, my grandma, who raised me, was constantly telling me to shut up.

Fast forward forty-something years.

About a month before I left to study shamanism, or as I lovingly call it, shaman camp, something started happening in my throat. I was constantly coughing and clearing it. I couldn't explain it, but I had this knowing that something was about to change.

And boy, did it ever.

At shaman camp, I became an animal of expression. Something wild and untamed in me was finally given permission to come alive.

If you were there with me, you probably remember hearing me howling in the woods at five in the morning, long before the sun came up. You remember my voice guiding the spirit canoe. You witnessed the transformation as I began to discover a voice that had been waiting decades to be heard.

And the beautiful thing is, I wasn't learning something new. I was remembering something I'd always known. That little boy who loved making animal sounds, yelling, and expressing himself was still there. He just needed permission to come out and play.

Spirit helped me open up, and through shamanism, I discovered the incredible power and joy of singing. I learned how the human voice can be used in so many ways to support healing, connection, and expression. When I returned from camp, my voice had dropped at least an octave, and much of the pain I'd been carrying in my neck had eased.

Today, I sing, hum, and chant as much as I can. It's one of the most freeing things I've ever experienced.

And guess what? I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about it. If you want to hang out with me, you might as well get used to it. Better yet, sing with me!

The funny thing is, I rarely sing actual words. It's just sound. Expression. Whatever wants to come through in that moment. Bird calls, animal sounds, strange noises, melodies that don't have names. All those things I loved doing as a little boy are still very much alive in me.

And perhaps that's one of the most beautiful parts of this journey.

That little boy who struggled to use his voice, who was told to be quiet, who wasn't always allowed to express himself, has grown into a man who now uses his voice to help others find theirs.

In my healing practice, Spirit continues to teach me how to work with sound and vibration. How to use my voice to help move energy, how humming can soothe the nervous system, and how sometimes the simplest sound can reach a place that words never could.

Have you ever had someone hold you and hum to your soul?

It's an incredibly beautiful and calming experience.

I've also brought this practice into the men's circle I host. We sing, hum, chant, and move our bodies together. Not to perform. Not to sound good. But to settle our nervous systems, open ourselves up, and prepare to be vulnerable with one another.

To loosen the throat.

To give sound to the things we've held inside for far too long.

To remember that our voices were never meant to be silenced.

So if there's one thing I'd love for you to take from this, it's this:

Please, sing. Hum. Chant. Make strange noises. Let yourself be heard.

Don't worry about how you sound. Don't worry about who's listening. Don't worry about whether you're doing it right.

Your body doesn't care if you're in tune.

Because when you allow yourself to express freely, you begin to come into tune with yourself. ❤️