The Recognition of Fear

"What you get by reaching your
destination is not nearly as
important as what you will become
by reaching your destination."
- Zig Ziglar

I try to keep this particular quote in my brain as I work towards putting the right amount of emotion into the song I've picked out for my audition. I've found myself trying out three other songs, just to see how they feel on my vocal chords. None of them feels quite right.

I've watched the auditions for AGT and AI and most recently the Voice and thought - Oh, if they had just picked the right song, they would've gone farther... And now I'm finding my own sense of self-criticism telling me the same thing. I don't want to be one of those people who doesn't know what her own voice sounds like, one of those who can't choose the right piece of music to fit her voice. Why can't I Google or Bing - What is the perfect piece of music for my voice? - and actually get a straight answer? Oh yeah - that's part of the pressure of an audition. This is why everyone doesn't do something like this. This is why I've never done anything like this before.

It is at this point that I recognize my old friend, the one who has been on my journey since before high school. This friend of mine was there chiding me after every failure, has been saying, "I told you so" for a very long time. And while she's kept me from doing some very stupid things in life, this friend has also stifled my dreams.

I love Langston Hughes:
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore-- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?  Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode?

Fear, that little friend of mine, has kept me from taking chances. Some, as I said, were for the better - that firefighter I met in college - way out of my league; the pot smoking, flower-man; and driving lessons.

But fear also caused me to sing the National Anthem so high only the dogs could hear; caused me to give up on my dream of being an American Embassador to Russia; caused me to never try out for a single play since high school.

So I guess that leads me back where I started this blog - with four songs ready to go and each equal to another and a decision to make. I love them all, for the different memories associated with each one: a song I'm proud of, a song I love to hear, a song I want, a song that makes me smile.

I suppose I could see this as an immense opportunity - that's what Teresa would tell me - that I have so many choices, none of which is better or worse than another. What a blessing to have so many choices, instead of being stuck with - well, crap - that's the only song I even sound decent singing.

So goodnight then. I'll practice a few bars, then read a little of HP7 (again) and then I'll think of my favorite movie musical - White Christmas - and I'll fall asleep counting my blessings . . . and hope that my friend, that old fear, stays away for a little while longer. 

Stay with Me

In 1988, my mother called me into her room to show me this weird musical that was playing on PBS. Quote: "I think you might like this." It was Into the Woods and I fell in love. A year or so later, I went to my music director at Villa and begged her to do it at the school. I even went so far as to call MTI in NY to find out how much the royalties were. Sister Mary Carole said no.

I followed the musical as much as an Internet-less world would allow. I bought the music book. It would not be much later that I'd had and memorized the entire CD. Then a short ten years later, obtaining the DVD.

Into the Woods was the first major musical I tackled on my own - I say, on my own, but I truly must give credit to the people who helped me through this (as I was 8 months pregnant when we opened). To my husband who built things he didn't fully understand until they were finished and on stage; to my wonderful cousin for painting gorgeous horses for me; to my wonder-make Matt and his symphony of musical mayehm; and for the brown-nosing ability of Alex who tackled every missing piece and made my musical beautiful. To the family and friends and parents who made my musical the ultimate vision of wonder that I imagined. I will be forever grateful for that one experience.

And so I find it rather fitting for my first "brave and crazy" act to be an audition with a song from Into the Woods, called Stay with Me. The song is so fitting, I just hope I can get my voice to do what I want it to do. The witch is trying to convince Rapunzel to stay with her - a mother's desperate cry not to be left alone. It's a tough emotion to show with a nervous voice.

And so I'm working with it now - sheet music (Thank you Kim Z!) that plays itself so I can practice.

I'll keep you posted on my progress, so Stay With Me!

Catharsis and Hillary Swank

This past school year has been incredibly difficult - more difficult I think than I've ever had. There were so many things that went wrong; so many conversations that hurt more than I'd admitted - even to myself; and so much utter failure, I sometimes couldn't breathe. I suppose those are the real reasons I made the changes in my life - seeking control of at least one thing I could control.

This reflection brought me some realizations about how I deal with stress and what stress really does to me. I spent a lot of time reflecting now that the school year is over and I'm no longer directing anything or anyone anymore. There is a gigantic hole, an emptiness, where that job once was. And though, the weight has been lifted from my shoulders and set upon someone elses; though it is no longer my responsiblity, my stressful nights, my mind racing through a dreamless sleep . . . I still find that I miss it terribly. More so, I miss my students in their role and I in mine. Ah well . . . we'll always have Paris, right?

This brings me to a moment of catharsis.

• Catharsis is a Greek word meaning "cleansing", "purging". It is derived from the infinitive verb of transliterated as kathairein "to purify, purge," and adjective katharos "pure or clean."

One day last week, while my darling daughter slept, I laughed and cried for two and a half straight hours. And afterwards, felt the better for it. Through all of this past year, I hadn't cried - not even once. I pushed through and kept going - the show must go on and all that jazz. But for two and a half hours, I got everything out.

Mind you, I hadn't sought catharsis. It just found me. I was just watching a movie so I could finally return it to my mother, from whom I'd borrowed it during first trimester when a student in my film class wanted to do her analysis paper on it. I suppose I had forgotten how wonderful chick flicks can be for that kind of theraputic release.

So thank you Hillary Swank and thank you P.S. I Love You - for helping me to find clarity through the emotional purge.