Francie and Fortitutde
Francie, aka “Fortitude”
One of the most surprising aspects of working with Himalayan Singing Bowls is their clear, expressive, and unique personalities; and, especially how those personalities shift with each client. I've never been one to personify my possessions. I've never felt the desire to name my car or my instruments at the orchestra. Yes, I associate each with different stories, memories, and sonic qualities but not a personality. My triangles and suspended cymbals do not have distinct personalities. My singing bowls however...
My first set of Himalayan singing bowls came via a generous, posthumous donation as a gesture of encouragement from the family of the deceased. Those bowls already had names when they came to me, labeled with a handwritten sticker inside each bowl that have long since washed away (see previous post on cleaning your singing bowls). I have no insight into the origin of each name, but I do know that the first letter of the name was meant to correspond with the pitch of that bowl. For example, the bowl named "Gann" is tuned to a G. For the record, the tuning came first and the name to match (not the other way around).
Since I never had the impulse to name my instruments, it took an adjustment period for me to refer to each bowl by name, as opposed to size or "brand." Descriptions at the orchestra are much more literal: 6" Abel (triangle), 17" Sabian Sus (suspended cymbal), 5" Hinger (snare) for example. The names generally only refer to a limited number of possibilities. If I ask a colleague to "please pass the 6" Abel" I could only be talking about one type of instrument on stage...a 6" Abel triangle. There is no 7" or 9," or Abel xylophone for that matter. I've never heard of anyone naming their 6" Abel something like, "Kermit." It's not part of our culture in the percussion section.
(Full disclosure: there are two types of 6" Abel triangles but they're close enough that I don't think anyone would be upset I passed them mine when they wanted the Wagner model. Otherwise, they'd probably say, "Please pass the Wagner Abel.")
As my singing bowl practice grew, I acquired more than just the first few bowls. Suddenly, it was jarringly inconsistent to only have 5 bowls named and the rest without. I don't know which of my traits this orginiates from–Taurus , INFJ, or 5w6–but I can't handle having only a select number of bowls in one system and the rest as unknown soldiers. I crave categorical consistency. For the first time in my career as a musician or sound practitioner, I needed to come up with appropriate names! To continue in the tradition of my first set, I asked my Spirit Team to help me name the other bowls, following the same parameters: English(ish) names whose first letter matches the pitch of the bowl.
I sat with each bowl one-on-one in meditation, and asked for a name (that begins with the letter "__") to drop in during my session. I examined each bowl, noting every characteristic that stood out to me from the shape, color, texture, markings, history, and of course, sonic properties. Most bowls picked a name immediately. On rare occasion this process takes several meditations, but I don't mind. There's no rush on my end for the bowl to select its identity. It must be how Doctor Who feels when picking a new face. Interestingly, my antique Tibetan bowls have a stronger sense of identity than the new Nepali bowls, who remained unnamed while they "discover themselves."
Which brings me to today's story. There is one bowl in particular whose name came through a clumsy process, laced with my own insecurities, yet ultimately revealing a staggering level of synchronicity and wisdom. That bowl is a 4 7/8" Tibetan cup bowl from the 18th century, tuned to the pitch F. This is the story of Francie, aka "Fortitude."
When I set out to find its name, what presented itself immediately was, "Francie." I'm not one to insert myself into another's sense of identity. It's really not my business. But honestly, I didn't like the name at all and in a quasi-controversial move I vetoed it. I let the bowl/my team know that wasn't a very good name and to please reselect. After some time passed the name "Fortitude" came forward. That's a rockin' name! Much better than Francie. I love the imagery and embodied qualities of fortitude. However, the fact that this was its second choice has always been in the back of my mind and I've wondered if I did the bowl a disservice by vetoing its identity?
I was recently discussing this with my father because of a synchronistic event with another bowl in my possession. My dad asked a fantastic question: "Have you found any connections between a 'Francie' and 'fortitude'?" No, I hadn't even thought to look into that!
Before I go further into this story, here are some other aspects of this bowl I should highlight:
In the system of sound therapy I practice (as taught at the Atma Buti Sound & Vibrational school) the F bowl is used to work with the root chakra, so the F bowl is generally used on the lower half of the body. I actually have a few different-sized F singing bowls depending on how much grounding/bass I need to bring to a sound therapy session.
I had an entertaining evening with a friend who, while on a psychedelic substance, helped describe the personality of each of my bowls. When I played Francie/Fortitude for my friend, they described the bowl in one phrase: "Respect her temple." Enough said!
Ok, so what did our search for a connection between Francie and Fortitude reveal? Those two words are primarily linked to a speech by Pope Francis related to "fortitude" which he delivered at Vatican City in May 2014. Pope Francis (or Pope Francie as I'll be calling him from here out) describes fortitude as a trait of the "hidden saints among us." I like the idea of my singing bowls as hidden saints. Pope Francis also sees fortitude as a quality that "liberates the soil of our hearts to bear fruit" and sustain us through weakness. Fortitude is "exercised in our patient pursuit of holiness in the circumstances of our daily lives" (respect that temple!). Fortitude is often saved or extraordinary circumstances. Pope Francie emplors his audience to remember the gift of fortitude in the everyday. "This gift must be the base note of our being Christians..." BASE NOTE?! As in the base tone of F that I use to work with the root chakra?! Of course it is! Amazing...
At first, naming these instruments was a novelty, a hat nod to the woman who gifted me my first set which allowed me to start down the path I'm on. Since then I'm continuously surprised and humbled as these instruments slowly reveal themselves and their wisdom to me. Each one has a unique personality and skillset. More details about each bowl on my team can be found here: https://zenwithben.me/my-team
I'm looking forward to learning more about the latest set as they find themselves and how they integrate into my sound therapy practice.
P.S. Fun fact #3: I get a lot of compliments on how I tune my snare drums at the orchestra. I really don't think I'm doing anything miraculous. I simply had a phenomenal teacher who was renown for his knowledge and facility with orchestral snare drums. In any case, it's not uncommon for a colleague to ask me to check their drum or do a little work for them. My other secret? It's super quirky–especially because I'm not Catholic–but my drum key was actually blessed by Pope Francis. It looks a bit like a cross so I'm not sure he knew he was blessing a drum key. It's so random yet it tickles me each time I remember:
Colleague: "Your drum sounds great!"
Me: [said with the same inflection as a girl who reveals their dress has pockets] "Thanks! My key was blessed by the Pope."
Colleague: [Blank stare]
Me: [Beaming]