Local woman adapts wellness experience to virtual platforms

<p>Liv Paggiarino/News Tribune</p><p>Larinda McRaven turns off the livestream function after hosting a sound bath session March 29 from her home. McRaven said she usually does her sessions live from a rentable cabin venue down the street from her, but she had temporarily canceled them to prevent the spread of coronavirus.</p>

Liv Paggiarino/News Tribune

Larinda McRaven turns off the livestream function after hosting a sound bath session March 29 from her home. McRaven said she usually does her sessions live from a rentable cabin venue down the street from her, but she had temporarily canceled them to prevent the spread of coronavirus.

In mid-March, Larinda McRaven found herself refunding nearly 30 people for a canceled event just days away.

"'Is that the end?'" McRaven remembered thinking. "That doesn't have to be the end - I can still do it."

So she did.

The following Sunday, she sat cross-legged on the floor under dim purple and blue lights. Softly, she drummed the iridescent gong behind her with a white-tipped mallet.

Tingling vibrations rushed throughout the room.

She turned her attention to the crystal bowl by her side and gently brushed the edges in a circular motion with a second mallet.

Its deep, singsong melody washed over dozens of attentive listeners.

Fifty-two minutes later, the sounds fell silent.

Moving back to the center, she opened up the floor for questions. And as the questions and conversation faded away, she said goodbye to her students one last time.

The night ended as she shut off her livestream with a soft smile and a promise to be back next week.

"Just because we all can't be together, why wouldn't I just go ahead and put it live?" McRaven had asked herself. "All of a sudden, it occurred to me that it was totally acceptable to put that out there. Maybe I can reach a whole new group of people that fall in love with it over the internet, if not in person."

Her first sound bath session March 22 on Facebook Live has garnered more than 1,300 views and at least a dozen curious first-timers. Keeping true to her word, she's hosted a sound bath every Sunday evening since.

McRaven is just one of thousands of dance instructors, yogis, and health and wellness gurus across the nation forced to close their studios and leave their ballrooms under social distancing guidelines and closures of nonessential businesses. She watched as industry colleagues lost jobs left and right during the coronavirus pandemic.

And then she felt it, too. She felt the industry come to a crashing halt.

"I was in the middle of judging the (U.S. National Amateur Dancesports Championships). In the middle of it, the governor of Utah - because we were holding it in Provo, Utah - the governor shut us down. Right in the middle. It's like shutting down the NBA in the middle of a game," McRaven said. "And we all had to pack up and go home immediately."

It was in that moment, McRaven said, she knew her industry would shutter for as long as the coronavirus pandemic would last.

"I have barely a trickle of income at this point. That's really scary," McRaven said March 26. "But that's OK, though. Everybody in my industry is in the same boat. We're just going to kind of wait it out. There's nothing we can do."

McRaven, who usually travels the country to coach, train and judge at various professional dance competitions and classes, found herself at home. In the quiet of her own living room, she spoke to her viewers with calm, measured words.

"Let any of the worries and tensions you have just float away for a moment," she said. "They don't serve you right now."

And then, she scooted back from the screen and sounded the gong.

'A moment of relaxation'

Making the transition to a virtual sound bath didn't come without its struggles. Sound baths work because of the energy created and released through instrumental vibrations. It's referred to as a "bath" as listeners, often lying down on yoga mats or blankets, are bathed in the vibrations. The "bathing" is described as a cleansing that relieves stress and spurs relaxation by dipping into the alpha, theta and delta ranges of brain waves, essentially going from the conscious mind to a deep sleep.

The feeling, McRaven said, is similar to "tripping on drugs, but without the drugs." It's a safe way to experience parts of the human brain we don't often get access to, she said.

But without the gong being physically present for each listener, she had her doubts about how effective it would be.

Would the vibrations of the ancient practice translate digitally through the computer, across the cloud and into the headphones of an awaiting listener?

The "thank yous" flooding her comments were indication enough.

Kerri Stratton Martin said her feet tingled just like she was there. Her cat, Floyd, found an interest in the sounds, too. Fulton resident Denise Kingsley said her Fitbit counted the time as sleep - despite her not sleeping during most, if any, of the session.

Newcomer Meredith Johnson turned her home office into a makeshift spa for the hour, lighting candles and turning off the lights. She had planned to attend the in-person event mainly out of curiosity after seeing it advertised. It was out of her comfort zone, she admitted, but setting up at home made it easy to experience the sound bath on her own terms.

She was glad she did it.

"It was almost like the stress just melted away," Johnson said.

Taking the sound bath virtual has also allowed McRaven to reach friends in far places.

In Orange County, California, colleague Maria Hansen closed her shades and put her headphones in as she tuned in to the livestream March 29. She laid on the floor, palms up, and listened. The sound bath was her avenue to meditation.

"I can tell you for myself, what I experienced that night when I went to sleep: I had not slept that well in months," Hansen said. "It's such a healing thing and such a deeply relaxing hour to spend where you just don't focus on anything except what you're experiencing in that moment."

Without McRaven turning toward the internet, Hansen might have never had the chance to experience one of her sound baths. It's difficult to travel with gongs and crystal bowls.

"I'm so thankful that Larinda is doing this and offering this for free to people," Hansen said. "It's a beautiful thing for her to do, and a very loving thing that just adds so much to the things that we can get off of the internet."

The sound bath goes beyond a moment of peace. While it's physically and mentally relaxing, Kingsley said, there's more to it.

"It gives a sense of community and shows that someone - Larinda - cares about you and is trying to help you how they can," she said.

Why not, McRaven asked. And why not now, when it's most needed?

For anybody who has something to offer to others, "why wouldn't we give that out and let people have a moment of relaxation?" she asked.

An evolving future

It was during an online cocktail party that McRaven and her friends had a heart to heart. She's not sure how long the industry will manage to continue online. While McRaven is still teaching dance classes over Zoom for her regular, paying clientele, she noticed the crowd begin to thin. With each new lesson, the class size got a little smaller.

And on Facebook Live, McRaven's sound bath sessions are free of charge. Pre-registration for the in-person event had been $30 per person. She's well aware of that fact.

"And there's no way I could ask for compensation," McRaven said.

She just wants people to enjoy it.

Still, the industry looks forward wearily.

"And one of (my friends) said, 'If it all ends in a month, if the quarantine lockdown ends maybe in a month or six weeks, everybody will flock back, and they'll be so excited to come back to classes. If it lasts seven months, they will ultimately have replaced their time and attention that they would normally give us with something else,'" McRaven said. "All of the in-person classes will have to evolve in some way."

Every Sunday evening, she goes live on Facebook. The soothing vibrations of the gong hasn't only helped others - it's a benefit for her, as well, enveloping the closest objects in the strongest vibrations and overtaking her senses. There's times she will play the gong simply for herself without the livestream turned on.

On April 6, McRaven found and grasped onto a glimmer of hope.

"Well I just turned into a weepy mess," she wrote on her Facebook. "I got an invitation to judge a competition in August. And for the first time in weeks, I am able to write something ONTO my travel calendar instead of deleting."