- Start as soon as you slide down the birth canal. Be loud and unaware.
- Alternate wailing with intent listening. Coo a little.
- Make all the sounds your body will muster. Be delighted.
- Pay close attention to those who listen to you and respond. If possible, store up their wonder for future nourishment. You’ll need it.
- Sing as much as you speak. There doesn’t need to be much difference between the two.
- Go to school. Keep being loud, but try to remember the intent listening thing you did before.
- If teachers or classmates tell you to stop singing/humming/whistling, politely do. Once they’re out of earshot, start up again.
- Never, ever, ever just mouth the words.
- When adolescence strikes, everything will feel different. Your voice will do messy things. It will still be beautiful. Try to believe that.
- If by some horrible chance you hit adolescence without finding your voice, don’t fear. It will be harder, but you can do it.
- Remember that your voice is a muscle. It responds well to repetition and challenge.
- If you have a big, wild voice, learn to sing lullabies.
- If you have a medium-sized voice, feed it jazz or opera or gospel: whatever feels most extravagant to you.
- There are no small voices.
- Learn vocal technique, then forget it.
- Breathe as though you’re inhaling the scent of lilacs, or the ocean, or pizza.
- Love the sound of your own voice.
- When you can’t love the sound, listen to someone else.
- Sing with others.
Thanks to the marvelous Krista Bremer, whose Sun magazine retreat prompt led to this piece.