I wrote my personal narrative about overcoming fears and now I suddenly have a more recent example to prove it by. I had been asked to sing for my singles ward Easter program a week ago, possibly a duet with my friend Jose. The conversation, simply, went like this.
"Hey Victor, would you be willing to sing something for our ward Easter program?" Inquired Chantelle, the ward music committee chair.
"Uh, sure." I responded.
Over the next few days, I regret to say that I kinda ignored her calls due to my embarrassment for not having given a single thought as to what song I might sing. About late Tuesday, I finally answered and she told me that she was going to email me a song and I should check to see if I liked it. It was good yet it was a children's choir piece, which I could have sung maybe five years ago but now I definitely couldn't and was unsure how good the piece would be in a significantly lower octave. (Background: I sung choir for two years in high school and, for the most part, know how to read music). A couple days later I took real responsibility (being but days from year 18) and found a song which was actually rather good, as well as appropriate for the Church setting.
Saturday came and I still hadn't practiced the song once, until 10:30 that night (that day was my birthday and I was rather busy throughout the day - more on that later, perhaps). Chantelle was very gracious and helped me get a hang on it (luckily it wasn't too difficult a song) for the next half hour.
But, here is what happened today. I got to Church around 8:20, thirty minutes late for choir, which would also be singing in the program. Fortunately, I am one of the better singers there, and one of the only basses, so that wasn't too difficult. It wasn't until around 8:45, fifteen minutes before Church would begin that I realized "Holy crap, I am singing in Church soon. I am singing a complete solo for the first time in my life in front of over a hundred people." I was nervous for a couple distinct reasons: 1) I tend to be very self-conscious and worried about how good the song would sound after so little practice and 2) I wanted to sound good for Him. People were here to feel His spirit, especially today; this wasn't like a high school choir concert where one could get away with singing poorly. I felt that I had to do my very best because to do any less would, well, not bode well, to say it simply.
As any reader is now aware, I was once dreadfully afraid of roller coasters. Yet that fear, the one I experienced in the minutes leading up to my first ride back in 2010, was nothing compared to the anxiety I felt around 9:20. What is worse is that I sing best when I am perfectly calm and at ease which I definitely wasn't at this moment. So, here goes nothing, I rise up to the podium, and I swear I am shaking like a house in the middle of an earthquake, then I start singing. First verse is alright, particularly after stepping away from the podium, though still gripping it tightly with one hand for support.
The room is dead quiet when I finish and walk back to my seat. The next thirty minutes are agonizing simply because I don't know how I did. I think He liked it, I hope He did, but I still can't tell if that warm feeling is the Spirit or the fear (looking back on it, it was probably a bit of both). No one looks at me for the rest of the meeting and I'm freaking out. Yet then the meeting ends and I find my roommates before quickly getting embraced by a number of ward members, complimenting me on how well I did. I am overwhelmed that they liked it and simultaneously extremely happy. The wife of our ward clerk comes up to me and tells me that she loved it and bawled through the whole thing. To put it simply, my ward is the best!
One of my mottos, accumulated through a few years experience, is that the breaking out of one's shell can be difficult yet once one is out, some of the truly great things in life manifest themselves. Such is what happened today, on an Easter that I will never forget.
No comments:
Post a Comment