1c What's so special about the singing bowl:

my story.

 I'd like to share with you a story about my personal healing and a great master that I met while I was in Tibet.

In 2007, I heard the sound of a singing bowl for the first time. Although it felt like this sound was squeezing my heart, a sense of well-being penetrated my whole essence. It felt like I was being blessed by some higher intelligence. Shortly after this, I purchased a bowl for my wife and me.

We didn't really know what to do with the bowl, besides striking it and listening, but there was something about that sound. The bowl was sitting on a decorative cushion, which rested on a coffee table, and we couldn't pass by it without taking the stick and playing the bowl for a moment. The bowl was receiving so much attention as if it were a member of our small family.

Like a normal couple, we had our ups and downs, but every time the bowl made a sound, the atmosphere at home would change for the better; also, a more peaceful state of mind was created. 

Back then, I was reading a lot about the influence of sound on mental, emotional and physical health. I was looking for some art form to practice, and knew that it would be related to sound. The field of “sound healing” captured my attention. 

Most of the information I found on the internet and in books just made me skeptical. I couldn't accept, for example, that the notes of the modern Western musical scale somehow are related to chakras. Also, having a degree in mechanical engineering, I had a hard time believing that singing bowls were made of several metals, such as mercury, lead, and copper that have such a huge gap in melting temperatures. Even if that were true, why would people use poisonous metals for healing? I had so many questions, and there was no one around to give me the answers. I purchased a few more bowls and was running my own experiments. The knowledge started to flow towards me straight from the source – my instruments!

At this time, strong arguments began to occur between my wife and me almost every day. Our relationship became very heavy on both of us, and we decided to provide some space for each other. Two months later my wife flew to Nepal. She was planning to take the hiking trail to Everest Base Camp. On August 24th, 2010, the plane she boarded with 13 other people departed from Kathmandu heading to the village Lukla, but it never landed.

She died in an airplane crash on her 30th birthday, and my heart died on the same day.

The trauma I experienced couldn't be described, but it isn’t my intention to focus on these dark times.

Many days passed until I pulled out one of the bowls from my collection again. The sounds were reminding me of the times spent with my little family and this was causing me a lot of pain. I temporarily moved away from my passion for singing bowls.

Months later after the accident, I pulled out the same bowl my wife and I used to play together. All of a sudden, I noticed that this bowl had a very interesting character. Once struck, the melancholic sound of the time that will never come back was flooding the room up to the ceiling. My mind was literally kidnapped by this fluctuating, sad tone. Listening to this bowl was just painful. However, something had shifted inside of my chest, and a moment of instant healing took place!

I noticed a subtle overtone that I had never paid attention to before. It was the sound of pure joy! It was a ray of sun, so pure and delightful! I asked myself, why was I choosing to listen to the melancholic tone while there was something so delicious about this other tone showing up at the same time?! That evening I kept striking the bowl countless times. I remember myself listening and smiling. I was smiling and skipping a heartbeat each time the sonic serpent appeared and pulled the sadness from my chest away into the void. It felt like some sacred knowledge was being unveiled to me… something that can't be told, but can be heard. 

Since then, the meaning of the words "happiness is a choice" has become clear to me. I started to practice listening to and choosing my moods, my thoughts, my emotions, my judgments, my reality. I became hungry for life, adventures, and new experiences! I decided to take my life back.

A couple of years later, overcoming my fear, I visited Nepal and Tibet.  While in Nepal, I did the Everest Base Camp trail hike. It was an act of closure on my past and the beginning of the next chapter of my life.

I also made a very interesting and fruitful connection with the local singing bowl authorities. I learned so much during this time! For a few weeks, I spent ten to twelve hours each day, testing thousands of singing bowls in the house of the biggest collector in Nepal. I finally walked away, having made my first big purchase of 56 “Stradivarius” bowls.

In Tibet, I intended to visit the holy mountain Kailas, but Chinese government blocked access to foreigners for a month. Instead of doing a Cora around Kailas, I joined a small group of tourists going to Central Tibet to visit the five caves of Guru Rinpoche (Padmasambhava). We also visited many Buddhist monasteries. Some of them had never seen tourists before. Surprisingly, none of these monasteries were equipped with singing bowls. I learned about the ceremonial usage of Tingshas (small, flat, round, bronze bells) and gongs, but I was so unsatisfied, seeing no Tibetan bowls in Tibet. A part of me was still hoping to see the Buddhist monks doing some kind of practice using the singing bowl, other than collecting donations in them.

At some point along the way, I met an old monk who was actually playing a singing bowl. I asked the guide to come with me and talk to the elder. I asked the monk: what exactly was he doing with the bowl? The guide translated my question, and the elder struck the bowl with a wooden stick and smiled. I noticed that he was missing a couple of teeth, but I didn't care; I just waited for the explanation with childish excitement. The explanation didn't come. The monk just struck his singing bowl again and smiled like a mischievous child. I asked my guide to translate the question: how exactly does the monk use his singing bowl? Is he just collecting donations with it, or is he using it for a specific ritual? Does he meditate using the sound? Or maybe he is cleansing his space? Maybe he is doing some healing work? The guide understood my point and patiently translated the request. The answer of the elder was one word only, which was translated into English as "listen"!

“Yes,” I said, “I know the sound of the singing bowl. I have a collection of these at home. I am a sound healer! I have a master level certification! Could you please ask him how he uses the singing bowl?” After talking for a while with the monk, my guide looked at me and simply said, “He just told you: Listen!” The monk struck the bowl again as if to emphasize what I just heard from the translator. He then smiled and said in Tibetan the word that I now knew the translation of.

No kidding, it was a great teaching for me! Listen!

When I came back home, I found new qualities in my instruments. After meeting the monk, I was inspired to become an even better listener to my clients and, most importantly, to myself and to life around me!

I now listen to my body and soul more carefully. I listen to the universe. I am focused on listening, thanks to that short yet profound meeting with the monk.

Singing bowls brought so many profound lessons into my life, so many beautiful people, new life, and new love. I facilitate sound meditation events at least once a week, and am still excited every time I prepare for a new event.

When I facilitate group meditations, I play very gently and quietly. I make long pauses and give meditators the opportunity to quiet their minds and listen to their inner silence.

By sitting quietly and allowing yourself to be without any opinions of who or what you are, or of how the world should be, by just breathing carefully, without disturbing the harmony around you, you will hear the universal love. By just listening to the silence between your thoughts, you realize that love has always been there, like the sky. This is the most important part of meditation and sound healing for me.