Very recently Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain committed suicide.

In a re broadcasted interview in tribute to remembering Kate Spade from “How I Built this” with Guy Raz–a super neat podcast about entrepreneurs and idealists and how they launched their businesses/brands-Kate says near the end “I always feel like the sky the falling… I am anxious”. Similarly, Anthony on Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations television show was always open with his struggles with drugs, alcohol and depression. Unfortunately, these experiences are not just for the rich and famous. I have often asked my choir members, “why choir?”. And you know, the most popular answer is not “because I love to sing!” or “I want to meet others” or “I love music”. Nope-the most popular, reoccurring answer I receive is “it helps my mental health”.

Mental health!

Another great reason to join Cantala.

Great friendships were made on a recent trip to NYC to sing with Eric Whitacre

Great friendships were made on a recent trip to NYC to sing with Eric Whitacre

In lieu of these tragic events I am sharing a poem I wrote on death and a recording of Eric Whitacre’s Sleep. It’s a piece that subtly talks of the “world” beyond and levitates my soul. This is my “why choir?”. I absolutely love the shift of awareness that choral music takes me on. It separates my present focus from the dust and dirt of every day moments to my life’s big picture. When choral music really rocks my reality I feel like time stops. There is a stillness. A temporary pause of time. Its here in this piece. Have a listen and while you listen, read “waterslide” , a poem about death.

The Waterslide-by Nancy Singla

Death: Gooseflesh!

Why? I ask myself

Am I Afraid; Or excited?

We all have the same sink hole-

No matter where we come from,

what we look like,

Or believe.

And we all must slide down it one at a time....

All by ourselves, 


Ever gone on a waterslide by yourself?




A pit in your stomach as you push off and make the first turn

All alone.

I remember being scared,

Lonely for just a short moment, and then-


Out I came into the pool, rushing water filling my nostrils, my ears, my eyes...

Gasping for breath and finding the bottom...

Death. Goosebumps.

They have made the journey.

The Mystery is no more to them.

I’m in awe.

I think about it, try to intellectualize it.

But I can’t.

I have a sudden desire to connect with energy beyond myself, and what I know. I feel the need to be creative with music, with word.

I look around

the sky-So blue!

The trees, shrubs, grass-so green!

The flowers-so yellow!

The sun-so warm!


Reality is a paradox.

It is so here and now....

But also so full of mystery and wonder.

The dead-

I feel they are apart of all that colour and warmth around me.

Perhaps death is like that waterslide-


 Uncontrolled and fast...

Now on to the next adventure.