Slow learner – but not dead!

Slow learner that I am, it finally hit me how crucial to be our own best friend!! I’ve so often used the sour discouraging look from others to decide how I should feel and what I should do. Having had a sort of “awakening” today, I’d like to put it out there for anyone else giving themselves a hard time for not being further along… life is hard! It is hard to believe in ourselves and our creative children when we (and they) don’t seem to get the love and attention from the world. For today at least, allow me the grace to love the things I love and not punish myself for loving them.

It’s all so simple – but is it?

Thomas and I were practicing yesterday in the little church. As we played, more people came in. We were not giving a concert, but the church is open, anyone can enter. Years ago that would have freaked me out – so many things and people out of my control.

I am not a religious sort, but I do love when the energy of “spirit” so much greater then my feeble mind and restless thinking takes me over. Easy for that to happen in so sweet a church with such welcoming acoustics. Just what I teach my students – to let the music “sing” you. It did! And with Thomas’s lovely lines of music (he is also listening for this), there was something holding us and loving us.

We had never played before but with that much grace you can’t do it wrong. After the magical music, we climbed the many steps to my little apartment to warm up, Thomas was telling me how simple it all is. Really. We will have our first concerts tomorrow and Wed, and then who knows if we meet again. So for me, that already begins the daunting thoughts of: “I better be good enough or he won’t like me, and won’t ever play with me again!” What is the medicine against those thoughts? I didn’t ask Thomas, I didn’t want him to know I felt any fear. But as if reading my mind, he said:

“The key is, that whatever you play, whatever song, whatever kind of music, you are really in it. If you are in it, then I will feel it and I will be able to play and the audience will love it no matter what. It really is that simple.”

Again, I only nodded in agreement, because I do in essence agree … and yet what I am still learning is to trust the simplicity of “being in the song.” That I am allowed to be there, to love the song, even if I don’t know yet if others will like it, even if it feels a bit raw and ridiculous. The songs that are tried and true, songs I wrote a while ago are easier to feel this. But the new songs – there’s a challenge of trust. So dear ‘grace’ be with me, and help give me the courage to go forward with what I love, with full conviction to be in that love!! Ironically, just the words I ended my book: ‘Pandora Learns to Sing’ with … but for all of us who do music, who yearn to do music, let’s remember that it can be that simple!

Recovering From Having To Be a Famous Singer

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”)

Join me in waking up

I just spoke with a friend and we talked about the floods in England and how still the government there stays true to its ideology denying what may actually be climate change. (Impossible to prove, but we can pretty much know for sure there will be more and more terrible erratic storms if we do nothing to curb our fossil fuel use.) They continue to refuse to do anything on that subject. Continue reading

The Personality of Teeth

I must comment on one remarkable feature of living here in this nordic capital, Oslo. And that is my dentist. Over the years, traveling here there and everywhere, the visit to the dentist was mostly an horrific experience. Now, at long last, I actually look forward to the visit. My dentist greets me with smiles and laughs, giving me the feeling that he is delighted to see me, not just as a patient, but as a person with whom he can banter and joke (in English) in a way not often done here. (Norwegians tend to need a bit of alcohol in the system to laugh freely and spontaneously, although this dentist, ever so Norwegian, is a friendly as they come.) Continue reading