There’s a life for your singing beyond fame and fortune -says Deborah Weitzman
It’s a strange paradox: being shy yet wanting desperately to be seen; loving so much to sing, yet only allowing that sweet pleasure when others gave permission. Getting famous – that was the answer.Then I would be loved, and would no longer fear anything.If enough people thought I was good, I must be good – right? If you only give over to the pleasure of abandoned singing when others clap for you, you will surely suffer (as I did), for fame is a fickle taskmaster and a dangerous addiction and even when you get it, it will never be enough.
Where This Fame Idea Came From for Me:
There were many sources of this suffering. Part of it was the idea that fame would force my mother to love me [insert the person you struggle most with in this sentence], or that I needed the world’s permission to love the thing I loved.
Gradually these ideas shifted. I gradually began to understand that using music to get the love I wanted just contaminated the music.
By stopping who we think we have to be, we discover who we are.
My mother (like the world) is capable of loving me in her (their) way, and without a desperate need or special demand, I am more open to see and accept and enjoy what is available. Then the music becomes its own force; not a thing to force in order to be loved, but love, itself.
Questions That Have Transformed My Journey
* What if there is no “making it,” what if the dedication to the service of creating art, of singing is enough?
* What if there is no one, but our higher self who can give us this permission?
This is the greatest gift we can give ourselves – to be in the journey of becoming fully and without shame then there will no longer be the need to get famous.
To let all the elements rise up: our hates and fears, our frustrations and failures, all the times we’ve loved and lost, to let it mix in making the voice rich in texture; to immerse into the amazing curl and wave of sound that is singing.
At my best today, I am able to mix it all in, no longer ashamed of what may come up. Rather, delighted when elements rise up in me: so much richer is the texture of my voice.
I imagine the touch of the wooden floorboards in the studio in Buenos Aires with my bare feet, the cracked ceiling and overhead fan with its swish-swish as it slowly moves the air just enough to create a breeze. I immerse myself in the singing –– the amazing curl and wave of sound.
This article from the magazine Voice Council was adapted by the author from Pandora Learns to Sing– a compelling rite-of-passage of the wind beneath our fears … and what it takes to have a quantum leap in perception. (“an absolutely an un-put-downable, beautiful read”)