Many moons ago, before the tectonic plates shifted and Noah was still building the ark (according to my daughter), I went to high school. Some of my friends were in choir and went on a fabulous trip to Canada. Why singing is better done in Canada, I don't know, but they went and came home singing Andrew Lloyd Webber, incessantly. It was clear to me that I had missed something good. So when try-outs for choir came along at the end of the school year I thought if those yahoos (my friends) could sing, surely I could fake my way through. It didn't occur to me, before I was actually standing in line for my chance at stardom, that I should have prepared.
There was absolutely no musical training in my home growing up. Now some of you may find it hard to believe that every Mormon girl growing up in Utah wasn't taught to play piano, but I am living proof. I did take clarinet my fourth grade year but the sad result of that debacle was a one-of-a-kind musical piece written using three letter words (see, even back then I preferred writing to music). I didn't consider how it actually sounded until I was asked to play it. I think my Dad said something about hearing cats fighting. Yep, the clarinet has great range.
So there I was, in a choir room full of my peers - the girls in a line at the piano waiting for their individual turn to belt it out, while the boys rough-housed in the choir seats - a perfect chance for an everlasting memory of embarassment. It wasn't pretty.
The girl in front of me announced that she was trying out for second soprano, and since I didn't know a soprano from a bass I parroted her choice. The years have now taught me that I'm an alto, so you can imagine the screeching that ensued when I tried to mimic the notes of a soprano from the piano (it probably sounded alot like my clarinet). While leaving the choir room in complete embarassment I told myself that I was not a musical person and would not embarass myself that way EVER again.
It took work to stick to that self promise. About ten years later my in-laws asked all of their children and spouses to sing in church for a special occasion. That meant me too. I refused, announcing, "I don't sing." So I sat on the cushy congregation bench with my two year old daughter, firm in my resolution, as my husband and his family sang.
Six months later I sat in a small room in a church in Indiana as a priesthood leader asked me to lead the music for the children's Sunday school. I assured him that I did not sing and that he must have me confused with someone else. He said that I had been carefully considered, and after much prayer the priesthood leaders knew that I could do it. Well, what do you say to that? I didn't have a witty retort, or enough control over my legs to make a run for it, so I said, "Ok."
I ate a big ol' slice of humble pie and called my mother-in-law. There is no doubt in my mind that she felt a certain satisfaction at my discomfort (only in my mind, she assures). It was too ironic that she was my sole option for music tutiledge when just months before I turned down her muscial request. So on our next visit she taught me about measures, down beats, and other musical terms; which were faintly familiar from my clarinet days (I did really try in music class back then, it was the practicing that was completely absent).
Leading the music for the kiddos really wasn't bad, it was their teachers that could have belted out those tunes in operatic quality that were intimidating. I did my very best and apologized at every turn.
Then a year or two later I again found myself in that room with a priesthood leader asking me to do something uncomfortable. It was now my priviledge to lead the singing in the main meeting, in front of the entire congregation. Nevermind that singing certain hymns causes a tearing of my eyes and runny nose otherwise known as crying, I had the opportunity to do it in full view of 200 congregants. Again, I was apologizing at every turn. Under those circumstances the women who were more musically accomplished were falling over themselves to encourage me, they were so grateful that they didn't have to do it.
After a while I was relieved of that position (in more ways than one) and went on to other things and to live in other places. At church recently it has been a necessity for me to know how to lead music, as there are so few here with any music training (or MILs who can teach them).
What I learned from these experiences is great, but the lesson that I have cherished is that I can do things that I thought I couldn't. I still wouldn't call myself musically inclined, but I can do it. We all can do things that we think we can't. The reality is that we can! If we could get over those things that are only mental impediments there is a world full of possibilities. Often, as in my case with singing, our mental block is a result of a previous bad experience. Why let that one experience define who you are, or the kind of life you will live?
In my opinion that choir teacher could have imparted a life long love of music if he had taught me about music in those brief moments back in high school. Instead he created an environment ripe for mental scarring. Be aware of supporting others in their quest to overcome their fears. And know that those who really love you are just waiting to cheer you on. Life has so much to offer, don't limit yourself!
Right now I bet you're thinking of something, aren't you?
Find a way to do it, pray for help, and watch your world change.
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