Authenticity

Authenticity is one of the gifts evident in finding one's voice. It has been liberating to be my self and to live my self....with all my very real gifts and shadows. I have grown, as a result, less defensive. After all, admitting to my own faults reduces the temptation to defend an illusion [or perhaps delusion] of personal perfection.
Paradoxically, it has been both liberating and painful to recognize others' lies and delusions. I have endured two spouses who took liberties with the truth, and I often questioned myself rather than them. I questioned whether my ability to trust was compromised. I no longer question my own ability to trust...rather, I know deeply that I can trust my inner voice that wonders: "Is this true?". As I have owned my own shadows, I have, in turn, disowned the temptation to trust others over myself.

Living my life authentically means coming to terms with the lies I told myself within these relationships...lies about my own gifts, about trusting myself, and about speaking truth in the midst. Finding my voice means recognizing both the gifts and the shadows in who I am....affirming the gifts and mediating the shadows. It also means forgiving myself for disowning my sense of self in the past.

Giving Voice to our Stories

"Writing can be a creative and invigorating way to make our lives available to ourselves and to others. We have to trust that our stories deserve to be told - we may discover that the better we tell our stories, the better we will want to live them." -Henri Nouwen

Voice and the Next Generation

My 6 year old Guatemala born son, Gabe, and I have an evening ritual. After we read books and turn out the lights each night, we have a little conversation about our day. We ask each other for "favorite" and "least favorite" moments of the day. Sometimes we play "Two Truths and a Lie", where we say 3 things about our day and the other has to guess which, of the 3, is the lie. Last night, our evening conversation evolved into things we would change, if we could, about the world. Gabe said he would make "ticks extinct" and he would invent a special potion to rid the world of "mosquitoes". I'm not certain where his bug disdain came from, but it was a distinct theme. During my turn, I suggested that I would eliminate prejudice, which I defined in what I thought was good kid language as "when people tend to not like those look differently from them". I thought it was a moment to prepare him for both the reality of prejudice against those with darker skin tone as well as the opportunity we have to make our world a better place. Gabe's immediate response surprised me as he exclaimed, "I thought John Luther King took care of that". It took me a moment to recover from the cuteness factor and to respond, well "Martin Luther King, Jr. did a lot of work to change laws and helped us make a lot of progress"...but there is still work to do in people's hearts.

How does a 6 year old already believe that race relations were fixed 40 years before he was born? How will his perspective be impacted when he comes upon the realities of modern day race relations? Specifically, that he will, at some point in time, be treated in a particular way due to his ethnicity? It strikes me that Gabe's response is reminiscent of a lot of adults. Didn't we fix all that race stuff in the 1960's? I don't think so. But how do we honor both progress and the need for change? And do so in a way that both honors our predecessors who have instilled progress and also galvanize future generations to overcome cynicism and seek change?

Pulling Through

After a quiet and disciplined week, today was the day. I did it. I didn't back out. I sang "Winter Wonderland" with a fabulous, impromptu jazz ensemble. My voice held out. After the piece, I sang several Christmas carols and enjoyed talking again. Of course, after a few hours of freedom, my voice is raspy low again. The "no holds barred" approach to having the voice ready was apparently important! Anyway, focusing on the physical health of my voice kept me from obsessing over the upcoming "performance"! Today, I intentionally reminded myself the best lesson I've received which is in voice lessons: while notes matter, what is most important is to tell the story! Ella is my hero in transforming a song into a story!

Silent Night(s and Days)

For as long as I can remember, I've had stage fright with my singing. When I was 15, I burst into tears during my audition for Lil' Abner. When I was 17, I walked out of the audition for Madrigal singers, the highest caliber musical group in my high school. The list of "chickening out" since then is longer than I care to admit. One might imagine how taking voice lessons, building confidence in my singing has been a big step. I haven't yet taken the plunge to audition for community theatre. Last winter, I was excited to audition for a community theatre production of Secret Garden. The show has a dream role for an alto...Martha is funny, she tells songs with stories, she is sassy. And the role calls for a low alto...right up my alley. So, this is a dream role...yet, I imagined being excited to simply take part in the chorus or have a bit part. After all, this was to be my first audition in 20+ years...I wasn't expecting the moon. The role and the show also fit my other important parameter...it was a show my 6 year old could see! In the final weeks leading up to the audition, I got bronchitis...and I completely lost my voice. The voice was in no shape for an audition, so I had to pass. I was really disappointed...I really wanted to take the plunge...it's a long lost dream after all. A couple months later, I sang in the college, where I work's, Employee Variety Show. I sang a comedic piece from I love You, You're Perfect, Now Change. In this musical about the cycle of relationships, I sang Always a Bridesmaid which details the disastrous wedding dresses and marriages witnessed by a perpetual bridesmaid. I was nervous, but I had a great time. The show raised funds for a charity, and my jar raised the most money of all 10 acts. I did it! I sang in public, and I did good! The confidence continues to grow bit by bit.

Following the Variety Show, a colleague, Jon, who'd played alto sax during the show asked: "Do you ever sing jazz? Because I could hear some renditions as you sang...". The next day, I ordered some Ella Fitzgerald and Diana Krall. I am hooked. So, when asked if I'd contribute a "talent" to the Employee Christmas lunch, I called Jon! He was thrilled with the idea, and before long...we have a full jazz program complete with 7 instruments and 3 vocalists. One piece is my singing Winter Wonderland with the instrumentalists! Talk about a dream!! Well, one week before the luncheon--last Friday--I woke up with no voice. I'd had a slight ear ache; it's cold and flu season. Before the cold even hit, the voice was gone. After an initial bout of frustration and hopelessness, I decided to do all possible to heal my vocal chords in time for this coming Friday. In the 4 days since, I have spoken perhaps 6 sentences. My son is getting very good at discerning my charade-like, silent directives to eat dinner, play cards, brush teeth. I have drank more tea than I can count. I'm giving it my best shot. Perhaps the good news is that years ago, a hoarse voice would have been the perfect cover for my stage fright...an easy out. This time, the hoarseness catapulted me, after a bout of self-pity, into a serious fight to get my voice ready to sing no matter the cost.

Being Alto

After several lessons, it was clear--at least to Larry-- that I am drawn to certain types of songs. I enjoy "Someone Like You" from Jekell & Hyde, a woman singing of her desire to be loved by a man...a man whom she sees only the good side of his dual identity. One of my favorite character pieces is "The Gentleman is a Dope" from Allegro. The secretary sings for most of the song about what an idiot her boss is, and then finally in the last verse admits-- both to her self and the audience-- that she loves him. Still, my favorite piece is "Someone Else's Story" from Chess. Florence sings about a women letting go of a relationship and, perhaps more poignantly, of letting go of her promise to the relationship. By the end of the song, she advises that moving on is the right thing but also acknowledges the depth of her loss. Moreover, she finally admits the real story--the "story is the girl is me". After a few weeks of this material, Larry asserted, "We need to find you some upbeat songs!". I fondly retorted, "The alto never gets the guy".

There is a relational pattern in musical theatre....typically the soprano and tenor fall in love, experience conflict, and reunite for the happy ending. The baritone is the bad guy. The alto either loses her man or supplies comic relief. As I think about my own relationships thus far, it seems I've played my vocal part well. In spite of what seem today to be insurmountable challenges, it has been hard to let go of relationships or, more pointedly, to the commitments I've made to relationships. I have not wanted to be that person who gives up or doesn't live up to her convictions. In the end, thought, I've woken up and wondered with Florence: how did I come to live "someone else's story"? In my quest to not let go, I've lost myself. As I work on these pieces in my repertoire, I now hear, and give voice to reality of these pieces...a longing to be loved that sometimes overwhelms a judge of character....to sometimes funny and othertimes tragic results. And as I contemplate the idea of relationships for the future, I long to love and be loved in an authentic way, that enables me to live my own story. I love being an alto....I just don't have to play the role off stage!