This weekend was, once again, filled with performances. The music school where I teach hosts 14 performances over two weekends every May, and all the teachers and administrators breathe a big sigh of relief (mixed with the tiniest tinge of melancholy) once it's finished. Though it's wonderful to see and hear such a mix of students and teachers perform, it's also incredibly exhausting and anxiety-inducing.
I gave several extra make up lessons this week to make sure some students were prepared, and when I wasn't working with them, I was working on my own songs. I was so pleased with all my students, and the students of all my colleagues. The technique and attention to detail that has gone into their training is superb, and wow did they shine! But more importantly, they were brave.
In case I haven't said it enough, performing terrifies me, like in the same way that some people are terrified of flying or spiders. Standing in front of others and sharing your heart is intimidating and unnerving. There are some songs that we sing that completely strip us bare, and we stand, naked, before an audience, praying only that it will be worth it in the end.
Though I've practiced it for months, this song still hits a bit too close to home for me. Andy confessed at dinner that he fully believed I would burst into tears on stage, and sat there considering what he should do when my break down occurred. Thankfully, I held it together.
Story: Lizzie finally becomes pregnant, only to miscarry and find she cannot bear children. She sits in the nursery, singing to her godson, while family and friends are in another room celebrating the boy's christening. (There is a break in the recording because our iPad ran out of space in the middle of the song, so we had to re-film the ending after everyone had left.)
So, there it is...me, at my bravest.
You go be brave this week, too!
Remember, I'm always cheering for you.
