I spent the morning yesterday with someone who used to almost always makes me angry. I have gotten past that and now they just make me sad. And tired. I am not sure that is any better really.
I am trying to be a calmer, less rigid person, so I guess from anger to sadness is a step in the right direction?
Later in the day I had another “go with the flow” kind of moment. A friend asked me if I would sing with him in a couple of months. I immediately said, “Oh, you don’t want that. Pick someone else.” He seemed sure, so I left it that I would consider it.
I went back to my office and started thinking about how long it had been since I sang. Last Easter I sang for the final time with a choir I was participating in for a short while and that was that. I just stopped singing altogether. I then decided when my mom died that I would sing more. Even if no one else does, she liked my voice. I figured I would sing for her. But I didn’t.
I remember one Christmas probably 20 years ago, when I recorded “O Holy Night” for her. I didn’t want anyone else to hear it, so I fixed up a small, portable recorder with headphones and set her up in a bedroom where she could listen in private. The rest of the family stayed in the living room, having drinks and appetizers.
Suddenly a strange sound came from the other room and my father, who is not known for his tact, made a face like he smelled something awful and said “What in the world is that sound?” I went towards the bedroom door and realized it was my sweet mom singing along with my recording.
Any ability I have in the singing arena absolutely was not inherited from my momma. She was tone deaf and had no desire or talent to sing. But my recording, which she loved, made her want to sing along.
Last fall, as I was missing singing and thinking I would sing more in my mom’s memory, a Facebook friend sent up a plea to come help out his church choir just for a Lessons and Carols service, and Christmas Eve service. I was really excited about the idea of singing with people I did not know, people who would have no preconceived notions of what I could and could not do. I went to the listening party at this church in a different community, far away from my home church.
As I drove to the party, I could not sing with the radio. My mom had died too recently and every time I opened my mouth, I started crying instead of singing. How was I going to do this? I got it together and went into this unfamiliar church. The music that we heard was new to me and lovely. One of the pieces was a mash up of an old hymn and a favorite secular song. I left there energized and ready to work my hardest.
In the car coming home I began to unconsciously sing with the radio. I sang most of the way home and as I neared home, tears streamed down my face. This time they were from sheer joy, not sadness.
I began to get prepared by pulling up YouTube clips of the songs from the choir gathering and listening whenever I got a chance for the next week. And then the news came. For reasons unknown to me, the choir director was let go and the whole music program was over.
I know whatever happened had nothing to do with me, but I felt so let down, not only for my Facebook friend, but for myself. And somewhere in my mind I decided that God didn’t want me to sing. It had been made abundantly clear. The negative people that had been placed in my life, the lost opportunities, the pain I have felt, the lack of confidence I have known and now this. All I wanted was to sing with a new group of people, away from friends and family, just for me and just for God. But the answer was NO.
So I was done. I have not sung a note since. I listen to sports talk radio, not music. And while I still love music, I can not keep being so disappointed.
Then yesterday’s offer came along. After talking to my friend about the possibility of singing, I came to my home office and pulled up the music he wanted to sing with me. I sang through it (I already know the song like the back of my hand) and realized something. I love to sing. I mean, really love it.
But I already knew that. With my new, relaxed take on life that I am trying, I was able to just sing. I didn’t care who heard, (mostly because no one was home, but me!) I wasn’t worried about anything and I was able to just let go. And then I did something I might come to regret.
After all of these months, I chose to sing with my friend. I told him I would do it.
“It is the ability to choose which makes us human.” -Madeleine L’Engle
I have a choice. I can keep letting fear win out or I can throw caution to the wind and choose to have faith. Faith works not only in church, but in every day life. I can have a little faith in me! What a concept!
In the book I am reading it states that choice in not a thing, it is an action. It also asked if I had ever experienced two contradictory beliefs at one time- the thought that “I can’t do this!” and “I have to do this!” And in a nutshell, that is my life, especially where singing is concerned.
A few people in my past have made me feel that I can not do this and with very little resistance I have just gone with that. I have let it grow and take on a life of its own. But deep inside, and every time I really just sing, I feel such joy and think “I have to do this!”
So I choose to try, to do my best to just let it go. To quit being more judgmental about myself than I ever would be to anyone else. I tell the kids I work with not to judge themselves when they compete. To do their best and leave the judgment to the judges who are getting paid to give them feedback and a score. As usual, I give advice much easier than I take it.
But I choose to try. I choose to put myself out there and give it my best shot. And if I fail, well once again- that is one of my resolutions. This resolution stuff is harder than I thought!
