Finding my voice

As I wandered back and forth today between my bedroom--where my homework sat glaring at me--and my piano room, calling my name, I decided to sing out a few high Gs and A-flats from sections in a favorite piece of mine, "M'appari Tutt'amor" by Flotow. You know, for some midmorning kicks and giggles.

I have always struggled as a vocalist for several reasons. I have TMJ, which produces an abnormal amount of tension in my jaw and limits how far I can open my mouth, in addition to being an insecure, tense singer (and person, let's face it) at times. I have come to realize in this short segment of rehearsal that throughout my entire undergraduate studies, I never truly believed in myself.

I have grown too accustomed to my identity as a petite person, much like a person identifies themselves with being a particular race, citizen, or possessing a certain level of IQ. This idea of being limited in physical stature has somehow transferred itself into the belief that I myself am limited in my personal stature--my self-worth, my ability, and my potential. I believe that same line of thinking has spanned across multiple areas of my life and has infected my confidence, decision-making, and view of myself in a most negative and crippling way. And in these short moments of rehearsal, I have begun a journey to debunk that negative line of thinking.

Not to say that I am anywhere near an expertly-trained vocalist, because I am still very much an amateur, but I have discovered a very, very, important truth. I have discovered something akin to buried treasure; buried treasure that, along with the assistance and influence of others, I have discovered only because I had to allow myself to trust.

As I sang through some phrases, I actually was applying some teaching methods I am currently teaching to middle school singers. Strange, isn't it? That when you actually apply what you have learned and are teaching to others, you improve? What a discovery. As I opened my mouth to its fullest extent without pain or tension, by shaping my "ah" vowel as tall as I can, pursing my lips forward and making sure I opened my throat--out came a free, rich sound, full of vibrato and most importantly--with ease. I realized in these few short moments that this beauty, ease, and richness can only come out of a singer who is confident and free, a concept which I've hardly ever grasped.

Singing is actually controlled freedom, which sounds paradoxical, but it truly isn't. Similar to being a disciple of Jesus--where I am completely free from the punishment of sin yet I must control my freedom in order to fully experience his presence and blessing--I must first discover this tremendous freedom I can have as a singer and yet control it using the wealth of knowledge I possess. The furthest distance, however, between knowing and applying has been in the trusting of myself; trust is the most difficult hurdle to overcome.

You can't imagine what this experience is truly like unless you have been the kind of person I have been my whole life--always struggling with comparing myself to others, wishing I had traits that others have. For example, with my voice, I've told myself I will never be able to produce a Verdi type of sound; it will never come from my tiny body. "You have a voice for church solos, weddings, and art songs. That's what you're good at. Do that." That's what I've told myself for years.

But after this morning, I discovered the simple act of trusting myself, to truly "let it go," and what resulted was the unveiling of abilities I didn't know I had. I still may not be a Verdi-type of vocalist, but the important lesson learned is this: instead of focusing on where I am lacking, I have decided to trust what I know, to engage in what I know, and to enjoy the freedom it brings.

I am so excited that this truth was unlocked for me this morning and I look forward to see how it will benefit myself and others as I will become a future educator, friend, and maybe someday a wife and mother. The journey to finding "one's voice," is actually never complete; but in my quest to discover this, I need to remember this always: that I am petite in stature, not in ability.