LET YOUR HEART SING

White tulips, yellow roses, Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream, 6 archipelago black forest candles, a large animal print (cheetah or leopard) throw rug, white drapes, lavender drapes, one avocado, a stick of butter, Yves veggies dogs with toothpicks, a cheese plate (non-sweaty, non-stinky), one case Smart Water (12 cold, 12 warm)....

These are a few real-life celebrity dressing room demands which will give me some good ideas with which to start my own list.  Because I am a singer.  As in stand at the microphone and sing into it.  Last weekend I went from zero singing experience to performer in less than 24 hours.  Now I am in high demand.  I can tell by how no one is contacting me.  No phone calls, or emails, or social media posts or trending on Twitter.  The pubic is obviously intimidated.  And who can blame them?  I am awesome.

I am unsure why I was so hesitant to take the "Let Your Heart Sing" voice workshop last week.  Maybe it was because all previous attempts to sing were met with underwhelming response.  OK, so I'm a little flat and can't carry a tune.  OK, so I can't conjure up the melody to any song beyond Happy Birthday all on my own.  I am fine at "singing along", especially when Adele is singing lead.  But I struggle a bit when it's only my voice attempting to belt out a number.  Still...a voice workshop?  How hard can that be?

How hard can it be to walk into a room with 13 other people, mostly friends and acquaintances, but some strangers too, with a sweet, encouraging teacher whose musical talents and amazing singing voice are legend?  How hard can it be to be led through a 3-hour journey of learning about how our hearts want to sing our own "heart song" if only we can feel our bodies, touch our emotions, find the images that come before words, and let Spirit push us out of our own way to let our song come through?

I'll tell you how hard that can be...damn hard!  There was a lot of nervous laughter, an enormous amount of vulnerability and fear,  and a cacophony of "inner critic" voices screaming inside 14 heads that we should each turn tail and run or at least sit down and shut up.  But we persevered and eventually were led on a guided imagery journey culminating in an exercise where we wandered off to  quiet, alone places in the building to "compose" our own heart song of longing, or questioning, or finding answers.  We were instructed to reconvene after about 20 minutes to share our songs...

Imagine.  Yes.  Stand up and sing your "heart song"; the song in your heart that only you could know.  Everybody did it.  The room was electric with joy, tears, courage, and triumph!  Whoa!

And that's not all.  The very next morning workshop participants were invited to be in the "Heartsong Choir" at our Unitarian Universalist Fellowship.  We thought we'd be singing back-up to our workshop facilitator who was the special guest.  We thought maybe we'd be singing along with the congregation.  We didn't think a few of us, only an  hour ahead of the service, would be asked to sing our OWN heart song all alone into the microphone in front of all those gathered!!!

Saying "no thanks" was a option, but where is the courage in that?  Each of us who was asked, stepped up.  Hub, myself, and two other women each took our turn.  We stood there in front of 80-90 people and SANG OUT LOUD.  We were nervous, with quivery voices, sometimes slightly off-key, hitting some notes and missing others, but singing from our hearts.

And isn't that what art really is?  An expression of creativity, of heart, of soul?  We can all improve on technique and breath control and pitch.  We can all work on stage presence and friendly banter.  We can wear cooler outfits.  But when we step through fear, take a risk, show our vulnerable soft bellies to others, we are already awesome.  We, each of us, however or whenever we take risks at any juncture in our lives, and "sing" our truth, are already breaking through the barriers that hold us back from being fully engaged and fully engaging.

I hope some of the tears I saw among the assembled were tears of recognition and appreciation and not the pain of referred embarrassment.  Whatever.  This was my brave act.  What's yours?  Give me a call...I'll cheer you on....and outfit your dressing room with caviar and chocolates.

At least, that's the view from here....©