And the rest is silence

In the aftermath of my recent audition, I find the silence in my head this evening to be absolutely refreshing. I'm not rehashing my audition and I'm not preparing for a call back, as I know it will not come. I have learned much from this process and today is good chance to reflect on what exactly I got out of all of this nonsense.

(So pardon me as I ruminate.)

I decided to do this audition about a month ago when a certain person in my life laughed at the sheer possibility of my taking on something so bold. (And no, that person wasn't my husband.) If I didn't still hold such resentment toward this person, I might actually consider thanking him for his rudeness.

After taking such a leap and making the appointment, there were countless opportunities for me to cancel. All I had to do was send an email - so sorry, but I won't be auditioning . . . .thanks anyway - or something along those lines. I'm well practiced at chickening out, so I'm sure I'd have come up with something. But I didn't chicken out this time; I didn't quit.

Even when I knew the choreographer had given up on me, I didn't quit. Even when they told us we'd have to cut our songs down to 12 to 16 bars instead of the 32 I'd prepared, I didn't quit. I survived . . . persevered even . . . maybe.

When I enterred the vocal room and the accompanist actually thanked me for setting up the music the way I did - I felt like I belonged there. And in my mind, I said a silent thank you to my choir mistress for the advice she'd given me. She hadn't held back when giving me notes on how to do this or that and I put each piece of advice to use. I can say I have no regrets about my audition, other than I maybe tried too hard, but who can fault me for that?

It was funny how'd I'd agonized about what I was going to wear for the dance audition - how I'd bought a pair of shoes especially for that and never wore them. (I'll probably take them back to DSW tomorrow - maybe.) When it came down to the dance audition, I never had the chance to change anything but my shoes. I'd been one of the last in my group to do the vocal audition, so I just threw on my tennis shoes and danced in the nice outfit I'd picked out so I'd look professional for the singing part.  By the time I was finished, my face was beautifully flushed, my hair still looked great, and no one could tell I was drenched with sweat underneath it all. I was completely buzzing when I walked out of that audition - not because I thought I'd nailed it, but because I knew that I'd survived with my head up and a cheerleader smile on my face.

I had a great deal of help along the way. If not for the advice I'd gotten from Shawnie and Kim on how to perform and appear professional; if not the for the tiny tidbits I stole from Patrick and Procco and even Huff; if not for the people I met and instantly liked at this audition; if not for the support (that I hadn't even realized I'd needed) from my FB friends and family - I don't think I could've gotten through this.

But I did. I did get through this.

And today everything went back to what it was before. Jenny had a doctor's appointment, so we ate lunch early, napped early and got to the appointment late because I had no gas in my car. And this evening, I'll probably curl up with a book for a few moments before going to bed.

And ever so slowly, I'll go back to the way things were before I decided to fill my every waking moment preparing for a 2 minute vocal audition and a 30 minute dance debaucle. And somewhere after Friday, I'll get an email telling me what I already know - that I was not chosen to play the lead role in this musical. Oh well  - I'll decide - that's really what I wanted anyway.

I've gained so much from this experience though - a rediscovery of someone I used to be inside and that alone was worth it. I'm truly not disappointed in myself. Really.

And the rest is silence . . . .