On Finding Your Voice
You may have heard the of the book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen R. Covey. I recommend it. In recent years, Covey has been presenting The Eighth Habit:
Find your voice, and help others find theirs.
Here's a little story. 30 years ago I was a high school sophomore sitting in a hallway of the fine arts department, outside a closed door audition for THE chorus. I had sung in public at our parish church at Mass as part of a music ministry. But I never had to audition for that group. I really wanted to sing in our prestigious high school chorus.
I waited until the last day of auditions. There I sat in the fine arts hallway, straining to listen to each audition taking place on the other side of the heavy oak door. One by one, the next person in line took their turn. Over the course of an hour, I kept moving to the back of the line, losing my nerve. Finally, no one was left in front of me, and I would be called in next. At my moment of truth, I quietly picked up my books and walked to the bus, never taking the audition.
For four years I sat in the school audience and listened to that high school chorus sing, and watched my friends sing their hearts out. I didn't perform anywhere in school and regretted it. I learn an important lesson: Life isn't a dress rehearsal.
The love of music never left me, first as a musician, then as a songwriter, and eventually, due to a profound lack of confidence, as a vocalist. Somewhere along the line I had contracted a very self-conscious fear of hearing my real voice... I felt like I sang like a man, rather than a woman. My deep tones never seemed feminine enough. Silly, I know, since I really did know how to sing, read notes and carry a tune. I loved Karen Carpenter but had the range of her brother Richard!
Despite not auditioning for the high school chorus, I still sang at church and on the back of the bus with my pals from camp and with the doo-wap loving teammates from the high school volleyball team. I discovered harmony. Having that deeper range made me search for ways to blend and connect with the other singers. And it translated into my music at church.
My best friend in high school was a soprano in the high school chorus. It took me a long time to actually do any singing with her, intimidated as I was. She played guitar. I played too and that was the first step to singing together. We both were assigned to work together on the music ministry team for a high school retreat. We would pray first, that the Lord would use our music to minister to others, and that God would be glorified. And when I sang with her, something happened. I could hear the music in a different way. It was like God blended the voices to create something greater than the sum of its parts. And it was enough for me. With the help of God, and the nudge of a soprano, I found my voice.
I still sang at church and eventually got into the wedding business... church weddings using acoustical guitar were pretty popular in the late 70s. But that's how I met my husband--another guitarist who played the church circuit. If you'll pardon the pun, we made beautiful music together.
Fast forward to the mid 90s. I'm new to my church, having just moved into a new town. I meet a woman who also shares my musical interests, and, you guessed it, she's a soprano. It was months before I had the guts to sing with her. Our first musical assignment together (at church, of course) was when she needed an accompanist for a Lenten prayer service. I played and she sang. And she was amazing. Well-trained and poised, she sang from some deep place inside that you just knew that God was involved somehow.
Eventually, we had more opportunities to perform together, and I stepped out in faith to sing alongside. Over the years, singing with my soprano friend, I've had that same experience over and over again... God knows what he's doing when he lets me sing alongside those amazing sopranos. I humbly submit to my harmony role and that's enough for me.
But wait there's more. Aforementioned soprano has given me the nudge to join her in the local community choral society. And immediately I was transported to sitting outside the audition door back in high school. So, I knew I needed to pray over it. I needed to kick out some old demon that had taken up residence in my music closet. Somewhere, somehow, I'm about to step out of my church music comfort zone. God even sent a new song called "Brave" from Nicole Nordemann's new CD to sure up my musical courage. (Sometimes it's nice to have a soundtrack to your life.)
So, I'm taking my soprano friend up on the offer, and my first rehearsal is tonight. And as I sing, I'll be thinking of the women who have helped me find my voice over the years -- not just the sopranos-- but all the women who have mentored me in so many different ways. And I'll be grateful for the challenge and opportunity to try something new at age 45.
May I be open to helping others find their voice, as I've been helped to find mine. And why not? Life isn't a dress rehearsal!
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
Find your voice, and help others find theirs.
Here's a little story. 30 years ago I was a high school sophomore sitting in a hallway of the fine arts department, outside a closed door audition for THE chorus. I had sung in public at our parish church at Mass as part of a music ministry. But I never had to audition for that group. I really wanted to sing in our prestigious high school chorus.
I waited until the last day of auditions. There I sat in the fine arts hallway, straining to listen to each audition taking place on the other side of the heavy oak door. One by one, the next person in line took their turn. Over the course of an hour, I kept moving to the back of the line, losing my nerve. Finally, no one was left in front of me, and I would be called in next. At my moment of truth, I quietly picked up my books and walked to the bus, never taking the audition.
For four years I sat in the school audience and listened to that high school chorus sing, and watched my friends sing their hearts out. I didn't perform anywhere in school and regretted it. I learn an important lesson: Life isn't a dress rehearsal.
The love of music never left me, first as a musician, then as a songwriter, and eventually, due to a profound lack of confidence, as a vocalist. Somewhere along the line I had contracted a very self-conscious fear of hearing my real voice... I felt like I sang like a man, rather than a woman. My deep tones never seemed feminine enough. Silly, I know, since I really did know how to sing, read notes and carry a tune. I loved Karen Carpenter but had the range of her brother Richard!
Despite not auditioning for the high school chorus, I still sang at church and on the back of the bus with my pals from camp and with the doo-wap loving teammates from the high school volleyball team. I discovered harmony. Having that deeper range made me search for ways to blend and connect with the other singers. And it translated into my music at church.
My best friend in high school was a soprano in the high school chorus. It took me a long time to actually do any singing with her, intimidated as I was. She played guitar. I played too and that was the first step to singing together. We both were assigned to work together on the music ministry team for a high school retreat. We would pray first, that the Lord would use our music to minister to others, and that God would be glorified. And when I sang with her, something happened. I could hear the music in a different way. It was like God blended the voices to create something greater than the sum of its parts. And it was enough for me. With the help of God, and the nudge of a soprano, I found my voice.
I still sang at church and eventually got into the wedding business... church weddings using acoustical guitar were pretty popular in the late 70s. But that's how I met my husband--another guitarist who played the church circuit. If you'll pardon the pun, we made beautiful music together.
Fast forward to the mid 90s. I'm new to my church, having just moved into a new town. I meet a woman who also shares my musical interests, and, you guessed it, she's a soprano. It was months before I had the guts to sing with her. Our first musical assignment together (at church, of course) was when she needed an accompanist for a Lenten prayer service. I played and she sang. And she was amazing. Well-trained and poised, she sang from some deep place inside that you just knew that God was involved somehow.
Eventually, we had more opportunities to perform together, and I stepped out in faith to sing alongside. Over the years, singing with my soprano friend, I've had that same experience over and over again... God knows what he's doing when he lets me sing alongside those amazing sopranos. I humbly submit to my harmony role and that's enough for me.
But wait there's more. Aforementioned soprano has given me the nudge to join her in the local community choral society. And immediately I was transported to sitting outside the audition door back in high school. So, I knew I needed to pray over it. I needed to kick out some old demon that had taken up residence in my music closet. Somewhere, somehow, I'm about to step out of my church music comfort zone. God even sent a new song called "Brave" from Nicole Nordemann's new CD to sure up my musical courage. (Sometimes it's nice to have a soundtrack to your life.)
So, I'm taking my soprano friend up on the offer, and my first rehearsal is tonight. And as I sing, I'll be thinking of the women who have helped me find my voice over the years -- not just the sopranos-- but all the women who have mentored me in so many different ways. And I'll be grateful for the challenge and opportunity to try something new at age 45.
May I be open to helping others find their voice, as I've been helped to find mine. And why not? Life isn't a dress rehearsal!
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
posted by Pat Gohn at
1/30/2006
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