New Travels

Remember when you first ventured to a new place? You were half excited, half nervous. Would the place be as exciting as you'd hoped? Would you find fun stuff to see or do? Or would it be boring? Would it smell like urine there--or mold--and would the hotel have cold running water or hot running roaches?

You were probably filled with anticipation, expectation, trepidation, and even abject fear.

Okay, so I can't speak for you... but I've felt all of that. And I feel the same thing when I'm trying something new. Say I decide to join a choir, or learn to knit, or take a class on photography. I could totally suck at it. It happens to all of us (or most of us, for those of you in denial). And the more new things we try, the more likely it will happen.

But it's important to travel into that new territory anyway.

Let me use the travel metaphor again to illustrate why. Say that you go on a cruise to Cozumel. And it was fun. And Cozumel was fun. So the next time you think about going on a cruise, you go back to Cozumel. You know you liked it, and you are afraid the other ports of call won't be as good, so you just keep going back in the same direction. Over and over.

But after a while Cozumel gets old. And in the end you realize that you've missed out on a ton of other places--and that's just in the Caribbean. No telling how many other fantastic places you've missed. Even if you cruise other places, but never travel any other way, you will miss out. Can you truly see Europe if you don't go inland? Nope. You miss too much. Can you see it in a week? Nope. What about Asia? What about Africa? How will you know what places truly resonate with you if you don't try them out?

There's the two kiddos...
bet you didn't know my daughter had purple hair, did you?
(graphic courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net)

I write this, not because I've ventured into new territory lately--and not because I've been on a cruise lately, either--but because my kids have done something truly new. Last night they both auditioned for our community theatre's production of Oliver! I auditioned, too, but I'm a bit more experienced with it than they are. I could tell they were nervous. And even a little scared. My son  couldn't sit back in his seat, even after he had sung his little piece.

But they both did it. They both stepped up on that stage--by themselves, mind you, not holding my hand or anything--and sang a song. And they both got back up there and learned a little dance routine so that the choreographer could see whether they could dance at all.

Will they get a part? No idea. I'm not sure whether that really matters (at least not to me). I'm bursting at the seams with pride that they tried out, that they had the guts to step up there and do something new and radical. I hope this is just one of many new things they try this year. Whether they get parts or not, they have added a notch to their confidence, have realized that they wouldn't die from fear, and have proven themselves a bit more independent than they were last year.

Now I have to consider what new things I will try this year. Where will I venture? How will I keep myself from staying within my travel comfort zone?

Come to think of it, what new travels are you planning?

Greatest FEAR = Greatest CHALLENGE

I am FINALLY getting back to my music!

I sang a solo in church yesterday, mainly because only two baritones were going to be in the choir, making it impossible for us to sing a full choir piece--but the reasons are unimportant.

Funny how singing is the one thing in the world that makes me nervous. Even weirder that my main reaction to being nervous is that I lose my breath. Worse case scenario--and it has happened before--is that I open my mouth and nothing comes out. Yup, it has happened. And I was singing a solo when it did. And it was awful. And even after I'd recovered, and finished the song, it was months before I would consider singing anything in front of anyone again. In fact, it was at least five years before I performed another solo.

But I did get over it. Believe it or not, church was actually what did it. My choir director said, "It's about time you sang a solo."

I just shook my head.

"No, you can do it," she insisted. "You'll sing this one."

Yes, I knew I could do it in the choir room, with a bunch of sweet choir members listening. But in front of a 350-member congregation? I could feel my chest tighten. I would lose my voice, I just knew it.

I practiced, but the feeling didn't lessen... I was going to crack, and it was going to be awful.

But then the morning of my solo came, and another soprano turned to me before we walked in. "Just sing to Jesus, honey." She showed me a stained-glass window at the other end of the church. "He's right there, and he doesn't care if you're perfect."

I didn't look at anyone that morning. Not the congregation, not the hubby, not anybody except that little stained-glass depiction of Jesus. And I didn't crack. I didn't lose my voice. I managed to make it out okay.

I realized something else, too. Jesus wasn't the only one who was pulling for me. That whole group of people wanted me to do well. Okay, perhaps there was a competitive soprano out there who wanted me to stink so that she could get the next solo. But wasn't that the case in any audition I'd had for musical theatre, when other people wanted the same role I was singing for? Of course it was!

But most people wanted me to do well. Even better, most people in the congregation wouldn't have a clue if I slipped up. I could have gone up there and sung crappy karaoke and they wouldn't have known it was crappy. Knowing this helps, too.

The support, though, has meant I can sing. Without losing my voice--it's been about 20 years since I did that--and without refusing to sing at all. I am still more nervous singing a solo than doing ANYTHING ELSE, even after years of practice. I might never get over it, not even when I'm 80. But I'll keep working at it, and the fear will lessen with every attempt.

Now you know my big fear. What's yours? Do you avoid it, or challenge it? I'd love to hear your own story of this. If you've already written it on another blog, just let me know where...