I’ve mentioned before that I am singing in my hometown church’s Living Christmas Tree this year and totally LOVING it. I was a music major long before I was a healthcare/technology geek and it’s still music that speaks to my soul.
I’m not a great musical talent. My heart was warmed tonight when I was chatting with a friend who spent several years singing next to me. I confided in her that I’d love to sing in my community’s Symphony and Chorale but that it required an audition. “You know how badly I get stage fright, ” I reminded her. She exclaimed, “But you’re good!”
But truly, I will never be a great singer or musician. Solos are not my forte, for sure. But in a choir, singing alto? I can definitely hold my own. I am in my element. I know what I am doing. What I was not given in the way of natural inclination, I make up for in enthusiasm and dedication.
I attended a rehearsal Sunday night. I was happier than a girl has a right to be singing up there in the choir loft. In the midst of my rapture, it occurred to me that I’ve learned a lot from singing in a choir.
There’s one song in our program that ends on an A flat which happens to be just at a break in my range where it’s almost impossible for me to sing with any volume. When faced with a note in or around that same area, I just sing the best I can and trust that others in my section who don’t have the same limitation will be able to provide the volume and resonation required.
Another song requires that an F be held for a considerable length of time. An F just so happens to be a note that is right in the sweet spot of my range. I don’t have to do anything special to belt that note out, loud and long. It feels good, tilting my head back ever so slightly and feeling the sound burst forth, proud and true. This, I am good at. Someone else whose vocal range differs from mine can easily sit back and depend on me and others like me to pick up the slack. No problem. You’re welcome.
But, probably my favorite sustained note out of all the songs, comes during my favorite song. It’s toward the end of the song when it is working into a complex, energetic, frenetic climax. There’s a children’s choir singing a high, sweet refrain of a children’s song, the sopranos and tenors are singing a lilting carol. And the alto and bass — well, we end up singing the melody, which almost never happens. And it’s not just a melody, it is also fairly high pitched for those of us accustomed to singing in our deep, throaty chest voices. We build and build, in volume and energy, until we sing, “Here before the King!” and hit a high E flat and hold it for six beats.
Now, an E flat is plenty high enough for most of us and many of the altos are not fond of such a rude switch-up. But me, I straighten my posture, take a deep breath, throw my head back, open my mouth wide and belt that note out at the top of my lungs. It’s a challenge and it’s a welcome release. And it sounds good.
I should say, it sounds good — as long as I put my heart and soul into it and sing it loud and true and strong without worrying that it might not sound good. At one point during our practice, the adult choir sang our parts softly in the background while our director worked with the children’s choir on their part. And you know what? I could not hit that high E flat when I was singing quietly. It came out as a mere little squeak — weak and entirely unpleasing to the ears.
That E flat is a go hard or go home situation for me.
High notes and low notes aside, you want to know what the most difficult part of going back to my old love of singing has been? It’s been the breathing. There’s one song in particular where I have to pay close attention to my breathing else I see spots and find myself panting at the end. There’s no harmony, no high or low note in that song that even compares in difficulty to the task of breathing properly.
So, what I’ve learned from my years of singing in a large group of people is that I have to have the self-awareness and self-assurance to know when to accept my weaknesses and let someone else step up and be strong while I just simply get by. There are times when my strengths and talents will be greater and it’s then that others will lean on me and trust me to carry them through a challenge.
But the moments to live for are the ones where no one really knows how things will turn out. Not me, not anyone. The moments of true exhilaration and discovery are the ones where I follow my heart and take a chance, hoping that I will shine but knowing that, if I don’t, I’ll be the stronger and the wiser just for trying. Those times when I breathe deep, throw back my head, and sing at the top of my lungs have the potential to be the most fulfilling experiences of my life.
And no matter what, I must always, always remember to take the time to focus and breathe, lest it all be for naught.
