Sound Became My Altar
For those of you who are new here, there’s something you may not know about me: I call myself a witch.
It’s a word that carries a lot of negative connotations. For centuries, people—especially women and girls—were killed because they were accused of being a “witch,” which in many cases wasn’t even true.
So I understand the fear around the word. But almost a decade ago, I chose to claim it.
If you look at the origin of the word “witch,” it actually means wise. To me, witches are people who are in touch with their own inner wisdom, spirit, and nature. People who embody that deep inner wisdom in their everyday lives: not just to improve their own lives, but to uplift and help others.
Most witches I know and follow online are people who genuinely care about people, the planet, and all of its creatures. They are people who want to use their own inner power to help others.
So yes, I claim the word Witch.
It’s a powerful one, but it’s also a promise to myself: a promise to make a positive impact in this world, and to never let the darkness that exists here make me lose sight of that.
The fact that I’m a witch hasn’t changed over the years, but my personal practice has evolved.
Yes, there are stable practices that continue to be a part of my life. I still cast spells (with the intention of the good of all), work with nature spirits, and speak to my spirit guides.
But something that became increasingly sacred to me was sound.
A lot of you probably aren’t surprised by this, as you see me sharing Sound Baths and hosting Sound Journeys every month. But to understand how I got here, and why it is so sacred to me, we have to start at the beginning.
I have always loved music.
It has been such a big part of my life for as long as I can remember. Before I could speak in full sentences, I used to dance and sing to music with my Dad on our big stereo system in our townhome. So many of my childhood memories are of dancing in the living room with my Dad, mostly to R&B and Reggae. Bob Marley was a popular one.
Before I even had my first instrument, I used to make rubber band and Kleenex box guitars. I received my first real instrument, a recorder, around the age of 6 or 7, and then my first guitar at 9.
I was inspired to play guitar because of my Grade 4 teacher, Mr. MacCormack. He was honestly one of the coolest teachers I ever had. He’d jam on his guitar in the classroom while we worked on our homework. There was always music in that classroom.
My mom asked if he’d be willing to give me guitar lessons and, of course, offered to pay him. But he, having one of the biggest hearts out there, offered to teach me for free during recess once a week.
And that’s how the guitar club was born.
From Grade 4 until Grade 8, I was in the guitar club. Other people came and went, but there were three of us who were consistently there together. We learned so much from Mr. Mack, and he even got us various gigs—at Georgian College, a local coffee shop, and performances at school.
It was one of the best memories from my childhood.
And I continued my love of music long after the guitar club ended. Over the years, life got busy and sometimes I didn’t play my guitar as much as I would have liked, but I never stopped playing. In fact, I never stopped getting curious about learning other instruments, either. I dabbled with ukulele and piano, among others.
Then I experienced my first sound bath.
And it was a total game changer.
It was unlike anything I had ever felt.
I had already been years into my spiritual awakening at this point. Spirituality had become a big part of my life, and I was exploring all sorts of energy healing modalities. But when I experienced a sound bath, it was unlike anything else for me.
Sound healing bridged the gap between music and spirituality.
I knew I needed more of this.
I decided I was going to save up for crystal singing bowls, and until I had the funds to purchase them, I was going to learn everything I could about sound healing. So I researched, dove deep into the topic, and took three levels of courses.
Toward the end of my online courses, I was also in the process of moving to Windsor.
My ex had gotten a job at the border and, having been together for five years at the time, I decided to take the leap and move with him—uprooting my entire life and starting over.
There is a lot to that story, and I could honestly write a book about it.
But what I want to focus on is how my time in Windsor reconnected me with my love for music and the healing power of sound.
In Windsor, I attracted the most beautiful opportunities.
I created my money bowl—one of my favourite spells—and some of the intentions I wrote on pieces of paper to put inside were:
Find a community of like-hearted people.
Save enough money for my crystal singing bowls.
Build a sound healing business.
And that is what I did.
After 2 months of sitting at a computer looking through Indeed with no success finding a job, a little voice told me to leave the house and just go talk to people.
So I printed some resumes and headed to the mall.
That’s where I spoke to the manager at Saje Natural Wellness, and I got a call back about an interview not even ten minutes later. I was still driving home.
This was my first aligned opportunity in Windsor.
The position I happened to interview for wasn’t just to work in the store. They needed someone to work community events all over the Essex region, and this truly felt like an opportunity given by God.
That opportunity led me to network with so many amazing people and created connections—including business connections—that I cherish to this day.
Saje was also incredibly supportive of my business and wanted to help me get my bowls and find opportunities to play them.
Not too long after starting at Saje, I was able to save enough money to finally get my bowls.
Having already taken the courses, along with my musical background and understanding of music theory, playing them came quite naturally to me.
I started playing my bowls at events for Saje.
Yes, I still had to do my job and sell products, but I was also getting paid to play my bowls and get the practice I wanted, which was really cool.
Over time, this grew.
I started adding other instruments to my repertoire. I got the opportunity to collaborate with other people and local businesses outside of Saje. I began offering sound baths for wellness events and retreats.
Eventually, I moved on from Saje and took a full-time office position that offered me more financial stability. It was a stressful chapter in its own way, but that job ended up funding so much of my side hustle. Some of the instruments and equipment I have today were made possible because of that job, too.
So while Saje wasn’t where I stayed, I’m incredibly grateful for what it brought into my life: the people I met, the connections I made, and the opportunities it opened up. I truly believe it was all meant to be.
It felt like the universe was pointing me in the direction of reconnecting with my love of music.
And it wasn’t just through sound healing.
I found a drum circle community and started drumming. I knew I had rhythm, but I didn’t realize I’d be such a natural on djembe. It quickly became one of my favourite hobbies.
When Drumming Down the Sun paused for the winter, some of the same people met indoors for “String Theory,” a string instrument group. I started going with my guitar and even found the courage to start singing with the group.
I also found a Kirtan group through these connections and began chanting every Wednesday night.
And behind the scenes of all of this, my relationship was crumbling.
After more than eight years, it came to an end, and my whole world was flipped upside down again.
I made the difficult decision to leave Windsor and move back to Barrie, returning to my family and starting over once again.
It was a huge transition, and there is a lot more to that chapter of my story. But even through all of the uncertainty, one thing remained constant: my relationship with sound.
In the midst of the stresses at home, and in the midst of the stresses at my day job, sound was my healer.
Sound was my altar.
Chanting and singing allowed me to free my voice in a way I didn’t feel I could in my relationship.
Drumming was a deeply moving and powerful meditation that brought me into a trance-like state. It helped me escape the world for a little while and simply focus on the way the rhythm felt in my body.
Playing guitar with a group brought me back to the feeling of community and shared music that I so deeply missed from my guitar club days.
And creating sound bath experiences allowed me to tap into all the important parts of myself: spirituality, creativity, musicality—and, simultaneously, to relax into the frequencies and sensations of sound.
When my mind was overrun with anxiety, often sound healing was the only thing that could quiet it.
And maybe that’s why it has become such a sacred part of my practice.
Often when life becomes very busy, I’m not always the best at keeping up with my witchcraft practice. Some may even call me a lazy witch. 😂
But I think I’ve simply discovered that I thrive with simplicity.
There are so many different ways to practice, but the deeper I dive into the power of sound, the more I realize how expansive it really is.
For example, when I use vocal toning with my bowls—the practice of using the breath to produce sustained vowels, humming, or chanting—sometimes it feels like a prayer, or a way of communicating with Spirit.
Other times, it feels like I am casting spells with my voice: sending my intention out into the universe, often one of love and peace for all.
If you made it this far, thank you.
It’s not a short story to tell.
I didn’t get into this business because it’s trendy. This came from something inside of me that deeply resonates with this practice.
And I believe it has been there all along.
It was a seed planted in me from the time I was dancing in the living room with my Dad.
Maybe sound was always going to become my altar.
With love, Deana
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