Long Tones, Thin Walls, and the Superpower of Zen Practice
Ever since I started playing the flute as a child, my life revolved around a simple yet profound ritual: practicing. And good practice, my teacher often reminded me, starts with long tones! If you’re unfamiliar with the art of long tones, let me explain. It’s not about dazzling melodies or intricate finger work. Instead, it’s about playing a single note, holding it, shaping it, and focusing every ounce of attention on making it resonate with clarity and depth before moving to the next note.
For my young flutist self, long tones were the foundation for developing a powerful, unique tone. However, for everyone else within earshot—my family, our thin-walled neighbours, and especially my poor sister who shared a room with me—it was probably a slow descent into auditory madness.
Honestly, if I had a neighbour today practicing long tones for half an hour daily, I’d likely lose my Zen, and I’m a yoga teacher! Back then, though, I wasn’t just making noise. Instead, I was cultivating something deeply internal. Beneath the surface of those monotonous notes, I was fine-tuning my awareness of sound and my body. My ears sharpened. My breath grew intentional. My attention turned razor-sharp.
The Zen of Long Tones
Looking back, I see how much this practice aligned with Zen Buddhist teachings. In Chan (Zen) practice, there’s a focus on being present in the body. For instance, instructions often include “know that you are standing” or “know that you are sitting.” This knowing isn’t conceptual; it’s direct, visceral awareness of your body’s position and sensations.
When I practiced those long tones, I unknowingly tapped into this awareness. Each note demanded my full presence—my posture, my breath, the flute against my lips, the vibrations in the air. It was a non-conceptual kind of knowing. To clarify, I wasn’t thinking about the notes. Instead, I was fully immersed in them.
From Flute to Yoga
Before yoga became my full-time passion, I worked as a professional classical musician. Additionally, the parallels between long tones on the flute and yoga’s inner practice are remarkable.
Take last night’s yoga class. From the outside, it might have seemed uneventful. A few standing poses, a few seated ones—nothing flashy. Nevertheless, the real work wasn’t in the outward movement. It was in the deep, nuanced inner attention.
Like holding a tone on the flute, holding a yoga posture requires sustained presence. In that presence, you’re not just “doing” a pose. Rather, you’re tuning in to inner sensations, the rhythm of your breath, and the flow of your thoughts. It’s about staying fully with the body, moment by moment, refining your awareness until everything feels illuminated.
Enter 2025: The Era of Post-Truth
Welcome to 2025, the dawn of what many call the post-truth era. After all, spend five minutes online (and let’s face it, we all do), and you’ll see how easy it is to be swept up in emotional manipulation. Headlines scream extremes: “Unbelievable!” “Outrageous!” “Incredible!” Everything feels urgent, sensational, designed to provoke a visceral reaction.
It’s a confusing time. The digital world bombards us with voices vying for our attention, often at the expense of nuance, depth, or even truth. However, amidst all this noise, there’s a secret superpower that can cut through the chaos: staying grounded in the body.
The Body as a Bullshit Detector
When you’re deeply rooted in your body, you develop a kind of presence that’s hard to manipulate. Zen teachings liken this to clarity of mind, but it starts with clarity of sensation. For example, when someone tries to sway you with flashy rhetoric or emotionally charged words, your body often picks up on it first. You might feel a tightening in your chest, a flutter in your stomach, or a subtle unease.
On the flip side, when something resonates as true, your body responds with a sense of ease, openness, or clarity. The trick is learning to notice these signals. To that end, tuning in takes practice—just like those long tones or a slow, mindful yoga session.
Sustaining Awareness in a Distracted World
Zen practice reminds us to return to the present moment repeatedly, often through simple acts: knowing that you are sitting or knowing that you are breathing. This kind of direct awareness isn’t glamorous, but it’s transformative.
It’s what helps you pause before reacting to a trigger—a sensational news story, a heated conversation, or your own runaway thoughts. Therefore, it’s what lets you discern what’s real versus what’s performative, what’s authentic versus what’s manipulative.
Long Tones for the Soul
Looking back, I see how those hours with my flute trained me in sustained attention and deep listening. I learned to find richness in subtleties. Today, as a yoga teacher, I aim to bring that same sensibility to the mat.
As we step into 2025, this skill feels more vital than ever. The ability to root ourselves in the body, return to the present moment, and discern meaning amidst noise might not win social media clout. Nonetheless, it could be the secret to staying sane—and maybe even thriving—in this era.
Here’s to the unglamorous, unsexy work of inner practice. Whether it’s a long tone on the flute, a slow yoga pose, or a quiet moment of awareness—“know that you are standing, know that you are sitting”—may we all find our way back to the steady, grounded wisdom of the present moment. May that wisdom guide us through whatever madness this year brings.