Singing, Stretching & Sound Healing

As you may or may not know by now, in December 2023, I moved to Conil de la Frontera—a small, windy, salty corner of southern Spain—and almost immediately started collaborating with Jana Doss (if you’re on Instagram, her handle is @janayogaworld). That was the start of something really special: a project that merges her yin yoga practice with my voice and sound instruments.

It was never some long-held master plan. I just knew three things:

• I love to sing.

• I love to share music with people, especially live.

• I don’t want to offer “just” a sound journey. It’s not enough for me to be the main show. Or to even be a show at all. I prefer to co-create an experience where sound supports something else—and in turn, that “something else” gives the sound a deeper purpose.
  

Enter: Yin Yoga.

Yin, with its long-held postures, quiet introspection, and emphasis on opening both the body and the inner landscape, felt like the perfect container for sound. And sound—with its resonance, vibration, emotional alchemy—felt like the perfect medicine to support and expand the experience of yin.

So I posted in our local nomad community WhatsApp group asking if any yoga teachers wanted to collaborate. Jana replied. We met and clicked right away.

Fast-forward a year and a half, and not only is she a brilliant collaborator, but has also become one of my dearest friends. Working with her just flows. There’s joy, laughter, spontaneity—and, maybe most importantly, no heaviness. Because let’s be honest: a lot of “healing” spaces (incl yoga) can feel kind of grim. Shadow work. Trauma processing. Introspective silence. All great. All necessary. But sometimes it feels like it’s only that. I want the light too. The warmth. The humor. The being-together-ness. Weaving a ‘whateva’ cheekiness together in a curated experience for our guests.

Jana is the embodiment of all that. And that’s why this collaboration works!

How we work together

The first time we teamed up, we didn’t over-plan. We trusted the flow. If I remember correctly she said, “I’ll make eye contact with you and give you a signal for how long the next posture will be,” and I said something like, “Cool, I’ll play or sing based on that.” Simple.

At some point, I may have gotten nerdy (or insecure, who knows) and I asked her to map out her sequence and how long each pose would be in advance, thinking I could match my songs to that timing (sorry, Jana). She tried it once. We both didn’t love it. Jana’s been teaching for years and works very intuitively. So do I. Structure is great, but for us, trust and real-time responsiveness just work better.

Usually she gives me a signal—two fingers for two minutes, five for five, etc. If it's a short hold, I’ll reach for an instrument. If it’s longer, I sing. That’s how we’ve done it ever since.

Well… mostly. After our last session, she told me (laughing) that I was sometimes so deep in my singing bubble—eyes closed, totally immersed—that she couldn’t get my attention to move people out of a pose that was getting a bit too intense. Heroes pose, for example. Fair point. I don’t want anyone stuck in a hip opener waiting for me to finish my mystical fade-out, lol. So now we’re keeping better visual contact—and she knows she can interrupt me if needed. I can always soften a song or weave a landing into whatever I’m doing.

From sound bath to sacred singing

Today we offered our sixth session together. And honestly, I think for me, it was the best one yet. Why? Because I finally let go of the idea that this had to be a “sound journey” or a “sound bath”—and just let it be what I love most: sacred singing. Yay! More about what I mean by ‘sacred singing’ in a next blog, but in a nutshell: it’s all about intention and frequency.

I still brought some instruments—mainly for pacing, integration, and texture—but this time I sang most of the session. It was such a joy. And such a relief. Because, hombre, singing is where I come alive.

I’ll write more on another blog about why I sing, what I sing, and how that connects to my upcoming trip to India. (Spoiler: in August I’ll be doing a 28-day Nada Yoga in Rishikesh training focused on mantra, vibration, and voice as a healing force. SO EXCITED.) But what I want to say now is: singing lights me up when it’s meaningful! Not performative. Not commercial. Not about unrequited love and sappy broken hearts—but about consciousness, essence, Earth, connection, spirit, surrender. Usually found in genres like Sanskrit mantras and medicine music (icaros). Sound and song intended as prayer, a bridge, as poetry, as presence, as devotion, as an offering.

Nerding out on sound & intervals

Lately, I’ve also been nerding out a bit more (with ChatGPT’s help—thanks dude) on how certain tones and intervals affect the nervous system. For instance, I’ve been experimenting with my Shruti box and my looping station, which allows me to create drones and harmonies.

Some combinations feel really soothing and grounding—others that I use often are more dissonant, activating, or even a bit agitating. Not necessarily “bad,” but maybe not ideal for a yin yoga setting where the goal is to soften and release.

In one of our recent chats, I asked ChatGPT about healing intervals, and it told me about consonant ratios—those based on simple numerical relationships. This is what I learned:

• Perfect fifth (3:2 ratio): stable, expansive, powerful.

• Major third (5:4 ratio): warm, open, uplifting.

• Octave (2:1 ratio): clear, centering, foundational.

  
  

These intervals are found in nature (birds, bells, ocean waves) and resonate easily in the human body. They just feel good. So now, when I prep for a yin class, where I’m not looking to ‘shake things up’ (something that I DO want in a sound journey) I choose combinations that support those ratios. Not because I want to be “scientific,” but because I want the sound to feel like a deep YES in people’s bodies. Because the whole idea of yin is to OPEN and EXPAND, so naturally it makes sense to use specific sound combinations that support this intention.

Improvisation & intuition 

If you’re wondering whether I now plan my setlists in advance: Nope. I used to feel kind of guilty about that—like I “should” have everything timed, scripted, and laminated. Because somehow that equals professionality. But honestly that’s not who I am, and I'm tired of forcing myself to work in ways that don't feel natural. In Dutch we have a saying: "Als het niet gaat zoals het moet, dan moet het zoals het gaat". Literally, it means: “If it doesn’t go the way it should, then it must go the way it does.” In other words: if the ideal scenario isn’t possible, you adapt to reality. Flexibility over rigidity. Dutch pragmatism, y'all.

What I do now is pull out the songs I might sing, so I don’t have to fumble through my full binder mid-session. I lay them out loosely in front of me—more like a grab bag than a playlist—and respond in the moment. That’s what guides me. I don't even look what pose people are in, although I will amid that could be next level. An extra soothing song for an extra challenging pose like Hero, not bad. Although today I was waiting for a heart-opening pose to sing ‘Abre tu Corazón’ (Open your heart’) but when it didn’t come (I probably missed it) I thought fuck it and sang it during a forward fold.  This is what I mean with the ‘whateva’. Care, but don't sweat the small stuff. Because I’m not here to deliver a perfect product. I’m here to co-create an experience.

OK let’s wrap this up. There’s no real takeaway from this post actually. I just wanted to share where I’m at—what’s moving, what’s unfolding, what I’m learning as I keep saying yes to what lights me up musically.

And maybe, if you’re someone who works with voice, yoga, or sound—or if you’re just someone navigating your own creative or healing path—this gives you a little permission to improvise. To trust what flows. To make it up as you go.

Because sometimes that’s where the real magic lives. And don't forget to have fun, for fuck's sake. Namaste!

photo: Jana teaching during this morning's class