Living out of tune

Can be so painful.

But you don't have to know.

You can play a different note

and listen for your song.

Tune U

A tuning practice through improvisational sound

For people who are tired of trying to think their way back into balance.

You’ve scoured your brain...

...YouTube, even ChatGPT for how to do better.

Sometimes it’s about your partner.

Sometimes it’s the kids, or the jerk at work, or the clock, or your decisions, or just the mess, and no matter how much time and effort you put in, you keep coming up short.

You go back-and-forth between feeling nothing and crying (or getting pissed) at nothing.

When you really think about it, you can’t tell if you’re normal or going crazy.

And you’re terrified of both.

Every time you do the stuff you hear is the smart thing to do, like therapy or the latest best seller or life hack, you feel some relief and some hope, for a while.

But then you come down again, only a bit lower now because that thing didn’t save you either.

The ride is getting exhausting. And discouraging. Worse than that, more deeply, it’s getting concerning.

Like you’re mired in a very unfunny version of Groundhog Day.

Because even when you’re on a high, you never really feel whole.

Something vital has gone missing.

This often happens during transitions:

mid‑life, changing roles, loss, shifts in purpose, or the quiet realization that effort alone isn’t restoring balance.

If this feels familiar, it isn’t because you’ve failed.

It’s because something in you has been speaking in a language you weren’t taught how to hear.

And what matters isn’t how dramatic these things feel, but what happens when experiences like this continue to go unheard.

When something essential goes unlistened to, it doesn’t disappear.

It repeats.

Sometimes louder.

Sometimes stranger.

Listening earlier tends to change the whole conversation.

And responding, even from the fog, can reorient you with essence.

A different assumption:

This work starts from a simple premise:

Experiences like the ones you’re having are not evidence that something is wrong with you.

They are signals... about what matters, who you are right now, and what may be ripe for change.

Often subtle at first.
Easy to override.
Easy to explain away.

Over time, something essential gets pushed aside... a sensation, an impulse, a grief, a capacity... and the system adapts as best it can.

In a culture that prizes effort, insight, and coping, the obvious move is to buckle down and try harder.

That can help.

But relief is not the same as restoration.

Learning to tune earlier is gentler.

Listening as orientation

Listening, in this context, isn’t analysis or introspection.

It isn’t fixing yourself.

It’s developing a reliable way to notice what is actually happening, as it’s happening, without rushing to override it or explain it under old assumptions.

Listening alone isn’t everything, but without it, tuning breaks down.
Feeling becomes reactive, and action becomes compulsive.

When a deeper kind of listening becomes available, things often begin to reorganize.

Not dramatically.

But meaningfully.

People often ask how this differs from mindfulness, therapy, or somatic practices.
The difference isn’t the goal — it’s the feedback loop you’re in while you’re here.

I was looking for a different approach to working through my emotional patterns and another resource for when I find myself struggling.

Dana Williams

Tune U offers a tuning practice that unfolds gently over time through repetition and return.

This page is to orient you on how the practice functions, the interfaces it uses, and ways people tend to stay with it when something meaningful begins.

The doors are designed to help you get oriented to the practice.

Containers support staying with it - nurturing what begins and letting it integrate into daily life.

The work involves movement, but not toward a destination or a better self. What changes is orientation - how listening, response, and contact show up as experience unfolds.

Each person walks their own path. I walk alongside as a guide, offering structure, reflection, and support as needed.

Interfaces for Coherence

These conversations don't only happen through words.

Deeper listening is one part of a larger conversation between perception, feeling, and action.

Sound gives that conversation somewhere to happen.

For many experiences — especially the ones that don’t resolve easily — language arrives too late or doesn’t quite reach what’s happening.

Some people listen best through the body.
Some through movement.
Some through sound.

In this work, sound becomes an interface.

Why piano

The piano offers an expansive relational field.

With 88 easily pressable keys and 10 fingers to press them with, our attention can move through multiple layers of experience at once:

Direction

Distance

Tension

Resolution

Relationship between sounds

It offers a way to listen within richness, and to hear how internal relationships shift as they unfold.

And yet, it's really easy to play.

Press a key… sound appears.

You hear what you’re doing as you’re doing it.
You feel yourself choosing, adjusting, and continuing.

Tuning as you go.

The piano isn’t the point.
It’s a portal — a way in.

For many people, this is a place where depth can be met.

→ The piano door

Why drum

The drum is the most elemental interface used in this work.

With limited pitch and few places to hide, attention naturally organizes around time, intensity, and restraint.

When a sound happens.

How much force it carries.

How long it lasts.

What follows.

We meet ourselves on the drum through impulse, timing, pressure, and silence.

Truth shows up as pulse, impulse, and response.

For many, this simplicity makes contact inevitable.

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Impulse

Timing

Pressure

Silence

In this way, the drum offers a direct way to listen to what is present and let sound respond, without needing to manage complexity.

Not as the result of an extended process of learning.

But as a lived relationship between sensation and response.

For many people, this is the most direct and honest place to begin.

→ The drum door

Tune U offers multiple doorways into the same tuning practice, each providing a different way to meet what is present.

On The Practice

This work depends on regular contact.

Not because effort is being rewarded, but because coherence only stabilizes through repetition.

That usually means short sessions most every day.
Ten minutes is usually enough.

There’s no punishment for missing days.
But there is a limit to what can change without regular contact.

As I often say:

If you’re not playing, it’s not working!

What Tends to Change

Over time, something reliable develops - a sense that you can meet yourself honestly, make conscious choices, and hear their impact as they happen.

People often notice:

more space before reacting
greater capacity to feel without flooding
a clearer sense of when to act — and when not to
less effort spent managing inner states
emotions resolving more cleanly

Difficulty doesn’t disappear — but it’s met differently.

What develops isn’t dependence on the piano. Or me.
It’s an internalized capacity.

Listening.
Feeling.
Playing.

Not in a fixed order, but as a cycle that restores balance when one part goes missing.

The Longer Arc

This practice doesn't unfold in a straight line, and doesn't aim to eliminate difficulty.

What develops is familiarity: with your patterns, your responses, and your ability to listen in the middle of things.

The work doesn’t ask for urgency.

It asks for return... not just to stillness or listening, but to engaged conversation you can stay inside.

“This is a massive, massive process for me as a human being.”

Meg Proffitt

“Good for anyone going through transitions or major life decisions.”

Vinci Daro

You don’t need to see yourself in all of this.
Only enough to know whether it’s worth continuing.

Who this tends to resonate with

This work often resonates with people who:

are in transition or uncertainty
have done inner work and feel the limits of insight alone
want something embodied, steady, and pressure‑free
value discernment over forcing outcomes

It’s especially meaningful for those who want to stay open and responsive — even when clarity doesn’t arrive on schedule.

Who it may not be for

This is not the right fit if you are looking for:

fast results without engagement
a purely intellectual framework
traditional piano training
certainty, answers, or bypassing discomfort

The practice rewards presence, patience, and curiosity.

Play your way home

Ways to Enter The Practice

If you’re still reading, something here has already resonated.

You don’t need to decide anything yet.

Below are a few honest ways to make contact with the work.

They differ in interface and intensity, but the practice is the same:

listening, contact, and response through sound.

The Piano Door

Playing the Fields

A one-hour orientation at the keyboard using simple visual patterns to make the piano instantly playable.

No musical background is assumed.

The instrument is simple to enter, even if it looks complex.

You are not learning songs or theory.

You are encountering clarity, mental and emotional ease, and a coherent dance with choice, engagement, and sound.

If you can place your hands on the keys and listen, you can begin.

→ Enter through Piano

“Now I do it for just ten minutes a day. It starts messy, then it gets musical, then it gets deep.”

Briony Greenhill

“I am not a musician and expected a much higher learning curve — but there wasn’t one. I was almost shocked at what I was able to accomplish.”

Rob Luka

“It’s a real blessing to be able to shorten the time between something unexpected happening and being able to accept it.”

Clare Pittman

The Drum Door

Sounding What's Present

For some people, pulse rather than pitch is the clearer door.

When entering through the drum, Sounding What’s Present uses rhythm and silence as a listening interface.

It's a one-hour guided practice focused on contact rather than form.

You are not learning to drum.
You are not having to keep time or memorize patterns.
You are not needing to make anything sound good.

You are developing:

contact with impulse and restraint
tolerance for silence and intensity
clarity around timing and pressure

If you can wait, listen, and let sound respond, this door is available.

→ Enter through Drum

Once I would settle in, my awareness of what was really on my radar came very quickly… and how quickly I had relief.

Dana Williams

“I feel much more confident to play along with others, and I’m listening more deeply in many dimensions of my life.”

Juanita Brown

The Listening Door

Listening (With or Without Sound-Making)

A short, self guided practice focused on listening before action.

No instrument required.

Ten minutes is enough.

This practice stands on its own.

Some people return to it again and again.

Others find it opens into longer term work.

→ Enter through Listening

Begin where your life can support you.

You’re not considering a level, only a way in.

For some people, what begins at the door wants a longer‑term container to grow inside.

Containers for The Practice

All containers use the same tuning practice you encounter through the doorways.

Each container offers a different way to stay in conversation with listening, sound, and response over time.

• Core (3 months)
Establish a steady foundation and rhythm of contact.

• Journey (6 months)
Stay longer with complexity, intensity, and pattern.

• Quest (12 months)
Integrate the work into relational and collective contexts.

To experience the practice before deciding about a longer-term engagement, these doors are available.

→ Explore the piano door

→ Explore the drum door

→ Explore the listening door