Sing out – from the tips of your fingers to the top of your voice!
When I was younger, I took full advantage of the times when I was the only one home. I put on my favorite musical theatre soundtracks, walked around the house, and sang with as much gusto as I could find. I sat on the edge of the sofa, closed my eyes, and pictured myself on a Broadway stage. I felt the music through every core of my being, the lyrical melodies sending waves of electricity through my body.
During beautiful Spring days at college, I’d roll my car windows down, blast my uplifting music, and sing along. I didn’t care if people stopped to look at me as they sped passed on the highway. Maybe it made them smile to see someone enjoying life and embracing art in the everyday moments. I loved driving long distances by myself because I could play the music I loved and sing without disturbing anyone else. It made the time fly by and helped decrease my stress level when other drivers made careless decisions.
Every now and again I would decide to pursue my love of music. I’d take voice lessons to strengthen the spiritually-moving gift within only to realize how much work it took to be a professional singer. My voice has flaws, sure, but I love singing for the act of it. I never put in the work to make it “better” or strengthen the muscle as music professionals deemed necessary. I stopped singing, found it more difficult and my “gift” waning. I couldn’t maintain a breath and frequently lost the pitch. Every time I got up the courage to audition for a part or showcase my voice in a public forum, I walked away discouraged and disappointed in myself. I doubted my ability and went back to the artistic outlet that others respond to – my written works. I’d get frustrated with myself and return to my laptop instead. I still dream of performing on stage, but I don’t have the belief that it’ll happen any time soon. My focus right now is earning a living as a writer.
As I sat at my computer this morning, I listened to my collection of musical theatre favorites and sang along. I felt the rush of energy surge through my chest, filling it with unwavering pride and love. As long as I am physically able, I will continue singing. It may not be in front of a room full of people or a packed theater, but I can’t imagine a day when I won’t be able to break out in song, sing my niece/nephews to sleep, or simply stand in the center of my living room and let my voice fill the void.
Music saved my life many times, and I have no doubt it will do so in the future.