Gather ‘round–we need you grounded
Calling our cousins into spaces we have woven
Bring the frayed ends of your fears, you are welcome here
We are not afraid of your light or your darkness, bring it
These are lyrics from a melody written and composed by song leader Biz (I wish I could be certain of their last name), from one of my favorite songs of all time. It is a call to step forward with the full spectrum of our wisdom and also the fearful prejudices that we carry. It is a gentle and courageous call, and one that I am now extending to you.
One of my favorite things about Singing Rabbit is that there is always a seat around the fire for everyone. Whether it is your first or your fifth time, you have a place here. No voice is too small or shy or inexperienced. I sing off-key all the time, especially when I try to catch an elusive harmony just out of my vocal range. I often forget lyrics to songs that I’ve been singing for years–right before it’s my turn to choose a song for the group to sing! I’ll mumble a few words, struggle through a snippet of melody, then suddenly, someone else in the circle remembers the rest, and with a collective breath, the song comes through.
It is in those moments of convergence that I am reminded of our capacity to build a culture that holds one another. In a song circle, the individual becomes a note in our collective chorus. I love to sing, but I rarely enjoy singing alone because my throat knows what it is to meet another in this act of vocal devotion.
Folks who know me well have heard me say that song circle is my church. Although community singing is not inherently religious, for me it is undeniably spiritual in the spontaneous connection I feel with myself, our planet, and people I know deeply–as well as people I may not even know the names of. When I sing with others, I am awestruck by the strength and beauty of our differences, similarities, and ultimately our interdependence. We don’t have to all agree on everything in order to share space with one another in a meaningful way. What we each carry into the circle only adds to the container we are building together. There is room for your grief, rage, regret, joy, sorrow, curiosity, ecstacy, playfulness, confusion, exuberance, and love. During some circles, I find myself spilling over with laughter. In other moments, silent tears stream down my face. No matter the emotion, I know that I am welcome; so are you.
Since I was a child, I have longed for a culture that fostered closeness, trust, and belonging amongst its people. When I moved to Dancing Rabbit with my family as a young teen and started attending group singing events locally and beyond, I finally experienced those pieces that had been missing in my youth. Starting at age 14, I witnessed deep emotional connection between strangers at singing events across the Midwest. I watched people who had never shared their singing voices with another soul open up for the first time. I started writing and teaching my own songs. I found instant, forever family through simply sharing my voice with others. I was so moved by what I experienced that I found myself saying yes over and over to help make events like Singing Rabbit possible, from taking on the responsibility of infrastructure leader at age 16 to finally leading my own song circle at age 21.
When traveling, I have a little propane single burner stove, and it’s wonderfully convenient. Unless I’m out of propane. So if I had to choose one cooking method, I’d leave the stove at home and pack the hatchet. I can’t think of many places where you can buy propane that you can’t find firewood, and all it takes is a couple of small branches to fry some potatoes. Many folks at Dancing Rabbit cook with gas (and electric), but I eat with the Critter Kitchen. We cook exclusively with fire (well, and sun). We can feed 10-15 mouths on two square meals a day on offcuts from construction projects, complemented by free scrap wood from the local furniture shop. It takes longer to cook (at least until you’re good with it), but it’s a great way to feed yourself. So long as you don’t mind the soot on your clothes–but hey, it’s a great way to hide the dirt.
These days I’m not much of a leader or a follower. I prefer to linger along the spectrum in between, which lends itself so well to group singing; even if I inhabit the role of song leader, what follows is always a co-creation with whomever is gathered. My dedication to song has never been a solo endeavor because I know that whatever melody emerges through the cracks in my life can become a part of something bigger that I will one day weave with others. I hope you will join me in this weaving of songs at Singing Rabbit, August 28-30 at Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage.
I never know what exactly is going to transpire here between all of our voices, but that is what excites me the most: this mysterious force that brings the right people together at the right time, called by the mystique of melody, led by that which leads all of us toward deeper connection with ourselves, our planet, and our animal and human neighbors near and far. We will be singing, of course, and probably dancing. Also eating great food. Oh, and smiling and laughing a lot. So, you should come. Take your seat in the circle. Bring all that lives inside of you. I will do the same. See you soon.
Prairie Johnson has been singing in song circles since she was 14 and writing songs since age 11. She has led songs for community singing events Village Fire and Singing Rabbit, parties, events, workshops, and the other myriad cracks in Earth’s corners that only songs can fill. She attended Dancing Rabbit’s weekly song circle from 2017-2023 where she got her first taste of song leading in community. Prairie is a spoken-word poet, writer, pianist, avid reader, lover of food, bare feet on the Terra, biking, cooking, and the enlivening love-mess-nest of authentic connection with humans.