I remember when I started practicing improvising how I would “hear” something I wanted to add to the music in my head. The flicker of some perfect melody. I would open my mouth to sing it and … I couldn’t.

I lost the thread or the idea. Lack of confidence closed my ears and stifled my voice. The moment of inspiration flitted away like a butterfly and there I sat glued to the ground with my empty net (or, in this case, my open mouth). It was a frustrating experience.

…

As we sang at Songtaneous this past Saturday, I realized that this fighting to find my melodies happens less and less. More and more often, I can sing what I hear. I don’t think too hard about it. I have learned to open my mouth and trust my voice.

Perhaps because I am approaching a new decade, I have noticed that, more and more often, I can SAY what I mean, too.

No, not every time. *smile* But more and more often. I get clearer faster.

Through trusting my voice, I am learning to trust myself. By singing spontaneously, I am learning how to be more authentic, more courageous and to say, as well as sing, what I mean.

…

It seems like finding the skills and commitment to sing what I find in the music (and sometimes what I find is sad or mad or just plain weird *smile*) has strengthened some “authenticity muscle.”

This is the “muscle” that helps me traverse the terrain of changing careers and find collaborators and projects that fit me. It also helps be more direct and more honest with myself and with others.

Most important, my music muscles are teaching me how to transition. Repeatedly, consistently, awkwardly or seamlessly, melodically or with disconnected dissonance, over and over again, the music shows me how to move from point A to B. And, I see again and again that even the imperfect transitions can be beautiful.

More Bloggity Goodness

• Working with the Broken Pieces