Last month, I decided to enroll in private voice lessons. I’ve never been much of a singer, but that hasn’t stopped me from chirping my little heart out. In the interest of noise pollution, it only makes sense for me to learn how to do the thing I enjoy properly.
Tomorrow will be my fifth lesson, and it’s amazing to hear the improvement in such a short period of time. I’m tackling some Patsy Cline head on right now. I still feel nervous in class, as if the teacher would rather be working with someone a lot more talented than me. And honestly, that may well be true, but she’s kind and patient and always encouraging. I already feel a bit more confident, though I still have a ways to go.
I’ve wanted to take voice lessons since I was about 19 or 20 but was always too afraid. Same goes for pottery, painting, dance, sewing, and tennis lessons. In the past two or three years, it has been my goal to eliminate those silly fears from my lifestyle. None of these things could possibly kill me. In fact, in one way or another, they can only fulfill me and make me stronger. So what if I crash and burn? At least I tried. I will probably never be a professional singer, a ballerina, a seamstress, a ceramicist, or a painter, but I would rather fail at something fun than never try. I guess that leaves tennis on my list of things to attempt.
And there’s always the chance that I’ll find my calling. Look for me in soft focus on the cover of a CD, keytar strapped around my shoulders, and a wistful look on my face.
What have you always wanted to try? Have you been brave and gone for it?