Her palms are sweaty,
knees week, arms are heavy.
There’s vomit on her sweater already,
Nope I’m not preparing for any rap battles around here. Just walking into a choir audition.
Yep, you read that correctly: a choir audition.
About a week around, I took my shaky awkward self into a choir audition and bombed the heck out of it.
Choir roadkill. <— that was me.
So, how did all of this happen?
If you’ve been reading the blog for a while (thank you!!) you likely know I used to sing about a thousand years ago. It was a huge part of my life, and I was a musical theatre major before I switched to Finance. I LOVED singing and performing, which is interesting since I’m extremely introverted, and it was something that made my soul extremely happy.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more and more removed from the arts. I stopped playing piano – I literally can’t remember any of the songs that used to drip so effortlessly from my fingers – stopped dancing, and the only singing I do includes rocking out to the Descendents 3 soundtrack, much to Olivia’s horror. I wasn’t looking to add anything to my plate, especially since I’ve been solo parenting so much for the past year, but when I was thinking of something I could do to bring the arts back into my life, a little voice in my head said, “Maybe you should sing again.” I wasn’t thinking of trying out for the local theatre or anything bananas like that, but figured a choir would be a safe bet to get back into it without an enormous time commitment.
A quick Google search told me that there was an audition for a local choir 3 days from that moment.
I don’t know what came over me, but I printed out the excepts, learned the alto parts so that I had them nailed, and brushed off my old aria. I felt like I was ready, even with such short notice. My mom came over and stayed with the girls – it was way past their bedtime so they were crashed – and I drove down to the audition.
Looking back, it was beyond naive of me to think I had a chance without singing much over the past 14 years. My aria was ok, I squawked and squeaked over the high notes in the required excerpts, and completely drowned in the sight-singing portion that I didn’t know existed. With how horribly it went, I felt a very small part of myself come back to life. I kept thinking of Brené Brown — if you haven’t seen her Netflix special, add it to the must-watch list.
In the last 10 minutes of the special, she talks about how sometimes you don’t win by actually winning; you win by just showing up. For some people, the act of putting themselves out there is a huge victory. It takes courage to be vulnerable. You can’t have great rewards without some type of risk involved. From this experience, I got a beautiful lesson to share with the girls: I didn’t get a spot, but I tried. I put myself out there and worked hard, which is the best you can do at some times.
I suffered from what Brené Brown calls a vulnerability hangover for days afterwards. I felt physically sick from the sheer amount of effort it took to walk in the room and sing an aria I haven’t visited for 14 years. But, I did it. And for some odd reason, I’m determined to go back in 3 months and try again. If it doesn’t work after 3 months of practice (instead of 3 days!) then I’ll take it as a sign from the universe that maybe it wasn’t meant to be.
So why am I writing about all of this on a health and fitness blog?
Health is so much more than working out, sleeping well, hydrating, and eating fresh produce. It’s about taking the time to do things in your life that bring you joy, reduce stress, and make your soul feel alive. Maybe it’s an art, a craft, or a hobby. But you can’t have true health in the absence of doing things you genuinely love.
Tell me, friends: what’s something that you love that doesn’t involve anyone else? Something you do just for yourself?
Singing friends: any ideas for a classical alto solo? I feel like after this experience, I need something new. 😉