The Singing Yogini
From the stage to the mat: Emily Gervers shares her journey from professional singer to trained yoga instructor
Reading time: 5 minutes
After 20 years touring the world as a professional vocalist, experienced live performer Emily Gervers made a decision that would change her life. Here, she explains in her own words how yoga rekindled the magical feelings of simplicity, joy and ease: “I took a breath, and I started to sing. The lights on me were so bright, and the audience eagerly took in each note, the music of their heroes swirling around them.
I could hear my own voice in my head, rising and soaring, controlled and passionate, gentle but strong, and I could feel my ribcage moving as I breathed, as my fingers ran across the piano keys as if on automatic pilot. My heart was beating loudly in my chest, my palms were sweating, my legs were trembling, but in that moment, nothing else mattered except the song, and my voice saved me. Every time.
Since I was a little girl, my voice has been my safe place, my freedom, my way of expressing myself to the world and as a self[1]conscious and shy child with physical imbalances and anxiety, it allowed me to feel grounded and reassured. I often struggled to be still, and even on stage throughout my career I would constantly move to the music, shifting my weight from foot to foot, unsure what to do with my limbs; but when I was singing, I had a purpose, and I wished for everyone listening to feel something. If people cried, all the better.
I’m sure I’m not alone as a performer in craving connection, not just with those who come to see you, but also with yourself. A long-standing career on the road, whether you’re an artist, a technician or anyone else behind the scenes, can be brutally taxing. In being around others 24 hours a day on a tour, you are automatically giving away a part of yourself in order to be able to function on a daily basis; the practices of tolerance, patience, gratitude, kindness, generosity of spirit and understanding are not merely suggested but expected.
You are a team player, and everyone replicates their individual role every day, without exception. As humans, unique and flawed, it can be hard to sustain such an existence, and you can feel the effects of it on every level. You can become disconnected, withdrawn and feel as if you are giving too much of yourself away.
So how do you combat these feelings? Well, as a singer lucky enough to have a touring career spanning 20 years, I had plenty of time to try and figure this out. A lot of artists tend to be highly sensitive, emotional people, with a penchant for people-pleasing, and I am no different. At 21, I graduated with a music degree and quickly joined a band looking for backing vocalists. I gained so much from being in such a fast-paced environment, becoming adaptable and professional, and learned to stand on my own two feet.
I learned never to try and pour from a boiling kettle whilst the tour bus was moving above 80 miles an hour, and how to sleep amongst 10 chronic snorers. But I also learned about stage fright, the effects of constant anxiety and fatigue, pressure and vulnerability. I became a rounded person as well as a versatile performer, but it came at a price — and that’s when yoga really came into my life.
For those who know, I think they would agree that performance is a full-body experience. Even if you feel unaware of what you’re doing at the time, you are using every available cell in your body to breathe, move, control and express yourself, for others to respond to. Your mind is constantly busy, and even though your soul is being nourished through the act of sharing what you love, you are giving a lot. You feel a real responsibility to exceed both your own and other people’s expectations. Do better. Keep pushing.
Go the extra mile. Find the energy. Be grateful. What is fascinating to me about yoga is that the roots feel the same — every system is connected and working together — but unlike performance, it allows for space in the mind rather than taking it away, and it gives you permission to receive. It brings balance.
After the show finished each night, I would go back to my dressing room, which was often shared with others, and find a space for my mat. I would then lie down, and do a short body scan, allowing everything to settle in my bones; the adrenaline, the exertion and often the exhaustion.
I would then find my breath and do a yoga practice. It would be different each time, depending on how I was feeling, and what I could sense my body needed, but I would always finish with either legs up the wall pose or savasana (corpse pose) to calm down and prepare for rest.
My body and mind thanked me for these moments, and it became a routine. Whatever the time of day I managed to get to my mat, I could find space from the craziness and recalibrate my nervous system. Living in a bubble on the road can feel like a small existence, but yoga helped me to open it up again; it reminded me that there is always more to be found, and gave my entire being something it was craving: simplicity. It also helped me to battle perfectionism, and to begin to trust that my body could support not only my voice, but my entire being, with breath, consistency and curiosity.
When the pandemic arrived, I was 10 days into a UK tour with Rumours of Fleetwood Mac (I was performing as the legendary Christine McVie), and we suddenly found ourselves at home, on an enforced break from the road. Whilst this was far from ideal, I was surprised to find that my overriding feeling was one of relief, and I slowly began to regain some of the parts I believed had been lost over the years, or buried along the way. I was burned out, and feeling trapped. I had lost some of the love I had for music, the energy and the joy. I needed to allow myself time to heal.
Like many people, I looked for classes online, and began to build on my home practice. I went back on the road in 2021, thinking it would feel fresh, but it was hard, and I asked myself, what could I possibly do instead? It was so familiar, but was no longer comfortable. I felt anxious, drained and depressed. I loved the singing element, but I was overwhelmed. Devastated that something I loved so much was causing me pain, I made the tough decision to step off the road in 2022, and the separation from what I knew triggered a type of grieving process. My body’s responses were intense, and I felt like I had lost my identity, so I came back to yoga to find space. After a period of rest, I decided that in order to get back to what I craved — simplicity, joy, ease — I needed to explore yoga more deeply, so I booked my training and completed it in 2023. I’m so glad I did.
Yoga, much like performance, challenges every part of your being simultaneously; it encourages you to feel, to sit with what’s there, to move through difficulties and blockages, to increase your awareness, and to accept where you are. Through my years as a performer, it turned out I had gained unexpectedly transferable skills.
A quiet confidence, as an anxious person who had overcome obstacles in order to thrive, which makes me a gentle but encouraging teacher; an engaging voice, with an ability to guide, and to use to express the importance of the breath; and a warm and comforting presence, that according to my students sets people at ease, and allows them to relax. I am giving to others, but just in a slightly different way, and I’m constantly learning.
I hope to help people to find their voice, by unlocking their own potential for healing and creativity, and embodying their whole being. I hope to show that by unlearning and releasing some of the unconscious patterns that we hold, it is possible to achieve more peace, joy and clarity. I would love to run events and host retreats, to share my passions for music and movement, and to encourage people to strengthen their own connections, with others and with themselves.
I will always have my own physical limitations, and I will always be a singer, but now I am also proud to call myself a yogi. As the word yoga means ‘union’, this isn’t a separate path, but rather a widening of the path I was already on; combining everything I have experienced so far. It has allowed me to accept myself as I am.
Encouraging movement for others, and using the voice as a natural healing tool, is bringing back the immediacy and beauty of music to my heart, and gives my work a uniqueness that I would never have explored if it hadn’t been for my performance experience. Seeing people being present in class, and giving themselves the chance simply to ‘be’ in a world full of chaos, is a familiar and inspiring thing, and I am often taken back briefly to the stage in my mind, watching those smiling faces and being lifted by their combined energy. I feel connected again.
So, when everyone is lying down, eyes closed, I take a breath… and I start to sing.”
Connect with Emily Gervers on Instagram @vybevoiceandyoga