December 2004

SOUND HEALING FOR THE DYING
by SHOW member Allan Tamm

This summer I had a very memorable sound healing experience; I performed a purification ritual for a dying person through the use of sound and music. I am writing about my experience in the hope that others will consider that they also could provide this service to a person in need.

My experience began when a friend notified me that my Tai Chi Chih instructor from a couple years prior was in emergency care and near death. My relationship with the instructor, whose name was Lillian, had been brief, but I consider her one of my most important teachers. One day after a lesson, I showed Lillian a set of 3 small, marimba-like instruments with aluminum bars and PVC resonators that I played in my meditation practice. Each instrument had its own harmonic character and name: One was austere and peaceful, Two was balanced and soothing, and Three was vibrant and energizing. Lillian remarked that for some reason these frequencies were seeking to come through me. She said that she once had a musician student who had been deeply affected by the Tai Chi Chih teachings, and he composed and performed some special music for her. And she wondered what kind of music I would play for her some day?

When I heard that Lillian was dying, I remembered her question and realized this would be my only chance to play for her. It seemed fitting that I would perform on the trio of instruments that I had shown her. I realized I could also play other instruments to add interest and decided I would sing some songs and chants accompanied by acoustic guitar. As I considered what would be appropriate to sing for Lillian, I received more information about her condition. She recently was beset by major health problems while already weakened by environmental sensitivity and illness. Her closest spiritual friends saw that it was time for her to leave this life, yet she continued to struggle against the inevitable. They worried that she wouldn't make a peaceful transition to her afterlife. I then realized that there was much more at stake than my desire to pay homage to my teacher. Fortunately, I knew some chants that would be appropriate for this situation.

I called the hospital the night before coming, and the nurse told me Lillian would be happy to see me. However, by the time I arrived the next day she was unconscious and barely alive. I set up in her room and began to play, first the delicate sounds of small wind chimes, followed by a lively piece on a gourd kalimba. Then I played the 3 marimbas, improvising patterns of resonant tones that bathed her in sound. After this I sang a set of songs and chants. I sang the chant, "Who Is In My Temple?", to cleanse the struggle within Lillian. Rabindranath Tagore's lyrics express the wonder of divinity manifesting through the temple of the human body and end with the purifying refrain, "Darkness like a dark bird, flies away, oh flies away." I sang this over and over many times, and as final preparation for her transition I sang Charley Thweatt's "On My Way Home".

All of this time, Lillian had not been responsive in any visible way. Each breath she took was separated by a long stillness. After the last chant, I spoke to her and expressed my gratitude for her coming into my life and bringing her teachings. I then saw a distinct change; her breathing became faster and connected, as if she were trying to respond. I took this as a definite sign that although she remained unconscious, she still had the faculties of hearing and understanding. This continued for about a minute as I played the final piece on kalimba titled, "Gratitude".

Afterwards, the nursing staff expressed appreciation for my coming to play for Lillian, and said that nobody had ever done anything like this there before. I later heard from Lillian's spiritual friends that she died peacefully that night, and they were very thankful for my act of kindness.

I once provided respite care for a man dying from AIDS. Each simple act; reading poetry, playing music, feeding him, and just keeping him company, was so magnified by the knowledge that these were among his last precious moments of life. My contact with Lillian through the medium of sound showed me that the moments after consciousness leaves the body are precious, too.