Multi-Tasking Multi-Instrumentalist

Two Words I Never Would Have Used To Describe Myself Before

In the past, I have often joked that I’m the kind of girl who gets so deep into whatever I’m doing that I can only handle one task at a time. A more fun way to put it is: “I struggle to walk and chew gum at the same time.”

To be fair, I never actually liked chewing gum, so it hasn’t been an actual struggle. But the cliche phrase makes a point: when I do something, I don’t just do the action—I dive into all the sensations that come with it. If I’m walking, I’m noticing my breath, the rhythm of my steps, the visuals around me, the feel of the breeze, the smell of the air, the warmth of sunshine or the cool weight of clouds overhead. I completely engage myself, enveloped in the experience.

This is how I move through life: fully immersed in the sensory world.

"Do You Play Any Instruments?"

At my performance gigs, I’ve been asked this question countless times—usually by men—and they usually mean guitar, piano, or something to accompany myself with. And oh, the subtle (and not-so-subtle) condescension singers like me have endured when we say no. More than once, someone has even dismissed my craft and performance style by calling it “karaoke.” Every time, it stings like a hornet. And yes, I’ll admit—it has left me questioning myself as a “real” musician. I wish I weren’t so easily affected by the words and opinions of strangers, but the truth is, I am a sensitive soul.

AI Art Rendering "The Frustrated Hungarian Piano Professor"

Back in college, studying classical voice at Chapman University, I was required to complete piano proficiency. I’ll never forget my little old Hungarian piano professor—calm, patient, with a dry sense of humor. He would glance down the list of names and reassure me, “You’re not my worst student,” pointing out those who never showed up, never practiced, never cared. Then he’d chuckle and tell me I had “two left hands.”

And he wasn’t wrong. I could master one hand at a time and I could read the music. But the moment both hands were called to work independently, something in my brain misfired. Instead of independence, they mirrored each other—playing chords and melodic lines in unison but in different octaves. No matter how hard I tried, the wiring just didn’t click. I knew learning to play would make me a better musician and be great for rehearsals, but opera singers don't accompany themselves onstage and that was the trajectory I was on.

Singing, on the other hand, came to me as easily as breathing. It has always been my true natural talent—the one thing in life I never had to wrestle with. Sure, I learned better techniques in breathing, phrasing, dynamics, and ways to expand my vocal palette. But I picked up those skills quickly and fluidly, with little rehearsal, as if I’d always known how to do them. Like a bird in flight or a fish in water, singing is simply what I was made to do.

Nothing in the world feels as effortless or as alive to me as when I sing. I love sensing where my voice originates—sometimes from deep in my diaphragm and gut, sometimes purposefully breathy, throaty, or even nasal to fit a song’s style, emulate an original performer, or experiment with new textures. My voice has always been the instrument I could manipulate, control, and connect with in infinite ways.

So when people ask why I never sat down with a guitar or piano at my gigs, that was a big part of the reason: my energy, my sensory attention, my whole self belonged with the voice. Anything else would have taken away from the power of my performance. I’d rather be an extraordinary singer than a mediocre singer who happens to play mediocre piano or guitar. My voice deserves my full presence and focus.

The Truth Is Revealed: YES! I AM a Multi-Instrumentalist

When I step back, I realize: I play a lot of instruments. They may not be the mainstream ones you see in jazz clubs or bands, but each requires technique, intuition, and mastery.

My orchestra includes:

• Gongs

• Crystal Harp

• Ocarina Flutes

• Crystal Bowls

• Himalayan Bowls

• Bells

• Crystal Pyramids

• Shruti Box

• Chimes (of every kind)

• Toning Drum

• Monochord

• Rainstick

  
  

and I play each and every one of these myself!!

And I’m not done yet. I’d love to add a hand pan drum, tongue drum and other unusual, beautiful, ethereal instruments that lend themselves perfectly to sound baths.

So yes, I sing with instruments that I play myself. I just do it in a way that feels both natural & intuitive to me.

Here's the truth: I’m not interested in basic chewing gum while I walk—but I will hum to the cadence of street traffic, matching its rhythm with my own. Guitar and piano always felt like an expectation of the industry, stretching me outside of my comfort zone and asking my brain to function in ways it simply didn't feel wired for. I absolutely recognize the value of those instruments, and for years I felt bad about myself for not being able to master even the basics. But that self-judgment doesn’t serve anyone—especially not me and my purpose to use my voice in service to the souls of others.

It's time to step into the paradigm & perspective, not as someone who “can’t,” but as someone who wasn’t meant to play those instruments because my gifts were meant to find another means of expression. I was designed for a different delivery method—for layering and weaving frequencies with my voice and instruments in a way that transcends notes, chords, and harmonies, and moves into something creative, cosmic, and transformative.

I am now the woman who leads sound journeys, playing multiple instruments while using the range of my voice to harmonize, improvise, and direct the energy of an entire room simultaneously. I’m not simply multitasking in the conventional sense; I’m immersing my entire self in the sensory symphony—just as I do with walking, breathing, noticing the sunshine, or savoring flavors. That is my evolved way of performing with purpose.

It turns out my “expanded path,” as I’ve called my sound healing journey, has expanded me and my vision of myself. As Johnny Nash once sang "I Can See Clearly Now," I am both a multitasker and a multi-instrumentalist—just not in the way I once imagined, but in the way I was always meant to be.