Working a show means many things: hard work, preparation, day 1 jitters!, new people, new friendships, managing yourself under pressure and time constraints, unexpected working conditions, going deep with your colleagues and making art happen regardless whether or not it’s organic, all under the umbrella of the opportunity to perform some of the most transcendent art in the world…the list is endless. While we all have stories of gigs that were less than ideal, we all have at least one experience that keeps us going. The memory of that feeling of “YES.”
“I was meant for this.”
“I’m just a vessel. This is so beyond me and so awesome.”
“I’m a part of something bigger than myself.”
In a singer’s world where most of our professional attempts are met with a “you’re beautiful, but no thanks,” it’s imperative that we cling to those moments when our souls are aflame. Those memories of artists who brought us to the next level, professionally and personally. The feeling of musical flow with an orchestra, conductor and cast. The whispers of legacy, riding on the wings of all the artists who sang the stories before you.
Treasuring these moments are not only critical for our sanity, but they help us hone in on specifically what kind of jobs, co-workers and music with whom we align. Holding these positives and examining them help us magnetize ourselves toward similar projects.
If we’re lucky, we find ourselves right in the middle of the intersection of responsibility and joy. We are represenced to the thing that makes us feel like us. And doesn’t it come in waves, this feeling? Though I crave a continual stream, I’ve become grateful for the tide nature-it keeps the art sacred to me, never stale.
It needs to be said that we can all have an optimal, supreme, spiritual performance experience and still excel in other extra-musical areas of our lives. I encourage you, my sweet friend, as I encourage myself daily: You are a shimmering, incandescent, multi-dimensional being.
Having multiple aspects to your professional aspirations and personal passions is indeed a gift, all to be celebrated. Period.
As I sit here, contemplating the deep well of beauty that I’ve dipped into over the past few weeks, I’m just grateful. I’m contemplative. I’m letting myself steep in the joy of a story well-told. And yes, I yearn for the next opportunity to share. But not in a grabby spirit. I picture myself on this big river, vigilantly anticipating the next current redirecting me off into a little eddy that is sympathetic to my vessel size, temperature, speed…a perfect match.