Tag Archives: Music

An Act of Vulnerability

Recently I made a list of rules to live by, which included “seeking out and doing things that scare me”. This post is in the spirit of doing something that scares me.

I used to love performing. I was in musicals and plays all through school and sang in my high school’s select choir. I sang in the car, in the shower, walking down the street, and in school hallways. I never took voice lessons and sang simply because I enjoyed it.

I stopped formal singing when I was in college, choosing instead to join a dance group. I’d always been a better dancer than singer and enjoyed practicing and perfecting choreography much more than I had ever cared about improving my vocal range or remaining precisely on key. Rusty, out of practice, and self-conscious I restricted my singing to parties (it’s easy to hide in a crowd) and driving alone in the car (even with the windows rolled down, who can hear you?).

The last time I sang in public to anyone who was purposely listening was a year ago when I spent a week in Cambodia with the grade 10 students at my school. Doing something you’re not confident about in front of other people is scary. My students had been stepping out of their comfort zones all week and I decided it was time I did the same. It was during that week that my group of advisees, themselves keen and talented singers and musicians, decided to make singing a regular part of our advisory class time, which we worked hard to continue for the rest of the year.

Thinking about my students and committing to my personal code, I took a deep breath and sang again. This time I sang for you, an audience of people I don’t know, whose faces I will likely never see.

Here’s to you.

Tiny Win

I’m not much into competition, but I won today and I feel like celebrating while the win lasts. Therefore, this post.

Going to and from work today took a long time. 85 minutes there. 110 minutes back. Dark when I left and dark when I got home. Not pleasant. I was frustrated about this when I got home, frustrated because it’s supposed to rain tomorrow and I hate running in the rain, which meant I had to run today. In the dark. Again.

So I compromised. I talked myself into a short run. Less than 30 minutes. Less than 4 miles.

Okay?

Fine. If you say so.

And then I did two things that made a huge difference.

  1. I wrote to a friend, “I’m having such a hard time.” I said a few other things, too, but admitting that I am struggling took a weight off my shoulders that I didn’t even know I was carrying. I have talked openly about this to a few people recently, but felt physically better today.
  2. I swapped motivational workout messages with another friend before heading out for said workout. And took a picture of my fun neon clothes. Now I had to make those clothes worth something.

I got outside, started my watch, and flew.

Flew.

For the first time in months, I was running for me. For me. Not out of anger or frustration. Not out of incompetence or inadequacy. Not away from something or towards something else. Not letting various narratives play out in my head. Just running.

For the first time in months, I didn’t pause to stare into the East River and think about how deep the water is. I didn’t look up at the bridges and think about how high they are.

I just ran.

Song in my head? “Jessie’s Girl.” That one has come up before, but I haven’t heard it in a while. I’ve always enjoyed that song. I used to listen to it thinking about how lucky that girl was to be so loved.

But tonight was different.

Tonight I thought about all the women I am so lucky to know who are so loved by so many. I thought about how beautiful they are, in all the ways. I thought about everything I admire in these women, as individuals and collectively. I was overcome with pride at having such people in my life, people I try to emulate.

I ran feeling good, happy, and whole for the first time since this nightmare began a few months ago.

I didn’t look at my watch until I got back and yes, the run was quick.

But it doesn’t even matter.

Demons, I beat you today.

And I will carry this torch with me into tomorrow.

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Rainy Sunday

Today is cold, gray, and wet. I bundled up in my navy raincoat, plaid scarf, and flowered Doc Martens I’ve had since college and I was still cold. The air was full of the dampness that goes straight to the bones. After two years in Southeast Asia, I’m not so good at damp or cold. That’s going to take some practice. Nothing like trial by fire, right? (Except in this case it’s trial by rain.)

Today is also lonely. I woke up knowing I would spend the day by myself, which is fine when that’s what I want to do. When I want to be around people, engage in meaningful conversation, and share myself with others I find it very difficult to be in own company. That’s the kind of feeling I had today when I woke up, which took me by surprise because I spent almost all of yesterday with a friend.

I fought the urge to cuddle back underneath the sheets when my alarm went off just to shorten the amount of time I’d have to spend alone. But I’ve been down this road before so I know better than that. I forced myself out of bed and outside for a quick, cold, wet run. Did yoga to return some heat to my joints. Left the house.

That’s key. Leave the house. It’s easy to get trapped in a cycle of rumination and distasteful self-pity when alone in my apartment. When I’m out, even when I’m out by myself, there are people to watch, conversations to overhear, places to go.

Made my way to the library to pick up George Orwell’s 1984. I’ve never read it and although I’m in the middle of two other books right now (What Kind of Creatures Are We? by Noam Chomsky and How Happy Became Homosexual by Howard Richler) today felt like a “curl up with a novel” sort of day. That’s something I’m always happy to do alone.

And by alone I mean in the company of strangers and a cup of coffee at B Cup Café in the East Village.

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I certainly wasn’t the only one waiting out the rain with a hot beverage!

The music, atmosphere, and food options were good enough for me to order a second coffee and a breakfast wrap for lunch. Breakfast is delicious at all times of day.

That’s when I ran into the problem of what to do next. There’s only so much caffeine one can drink in a day. And I’m bad at sitting.

So I headed home. Stopped at the farmers’ market to pick up some things on the way. Put on Bon Iver’s new album (again). Thought about all the times over the past 12 months that I’d been lonely and told myself all that would end when I moved to New York.

Thought about how wrong I was.

On the bright side, I’ve had a lot of time to think. Time that I desperately needed. I don’t know whether I’m in a better place now than I was in August, but I do know that I’m in a different place. That’s definitely a step in the right direction, though I don’t know what direction that is.

Maybe this time alone will help me figure it out.