ever since reading Daring Greatly (see this post) i've just been thinking about how i can dare greatly in my life. lesbehonest, my life is pretty boring. i work, sleep and eat. oh, and netflix. haha ok it's not that boring- i've been doing lots of fun things. but i don't get out there a lot. there isn't a lot to push me outside my comfort zone- except when things go a little cray at work. let's not talk about that. . .
so a couple weeks ago when i was driving back from canada my friend taylor texted me and told me i should audition for the orem institute choir. my first response was, "uhhhhh no." i love singing and i like choir but i had a shame-filled experience with singing when i was in high school. my junior year i auditioned for the chamber choir at high school. i'd been in voice lessons and i really wanted to get into chamber choir. i knew all my friends would be in chamber choir and both my siblings before me had been in it. i kind of felt like it was the only thing to do. and if i didn't get in, it meant i wasn't a good singer, i wasn't as good as any of my siblings (all of them who have finished high school so far have been in chamber choir), and that i was a failure. i remember walking into school the day that the chamber choir kids had got kidnapped. when i saw all my friends in their pj's milling around the choir room i almost did an about-face and walked out the door to leave school. i didn't want to come back. i spent my senior year watching my friends perform in the chamber choir- and to be honest i cried at almost every performance. for years i wouldn't sing in front of people who i perceived to be better singers than i was- even if we were just singing along to songs in the car. i was too self conscious. i never auditioned for a choir at byu because i didn't want to not make it in (especially when my brothers who attended byu with me were in Men's Chorus). my final semester i took voice lessons at byu and started to feel confident about my voice again. i had a great teacher who really helped me feel like i had something unique in my voice.
but i still compared my voice. i know. it's a weird thing to compare to others. but i did. i compared to my siblings, companions, friends. but i started to feel pretty comfortable with my voice- feeling like i could actually sing as well as i wanted to.
after giving it some thought, i decided to audition for institute choir. not only would it be a good way to get new friends (which i really need) but it would help me sing on a consistent basis while feeling the spirit and sharing the gospel. i was pretty excited. and nervous. seriously i almost lost it while trying to find parking at UVU because i was so stressed about auditioning! then i had to wait, sitting listening to everyone else audition, for more than an hour. my mind started going through all the BAD outcomes. and i almost just ditched out. was it worth it? i kept reminding myself that i was "daring greatly." i needed to do this. so i did.
i felt pretty good about my audition. and excited. looking forward to a good experience this year in choir. i was glad that i had auditioned.
yesterday when i got the text that told me i didn't get into choir, i was at work. i didn't let myself think about it too much. because honestly, i needed to focus on work, or i'd realize how crushed i was.
guys, i'm still human.
i wanted to get into choir. i know my audition was good, but the thought that ran through my head was that it (the audition, my voice, who i am) wasn't good enough. i was in a total shame melt down. "why had i even auditioned? this was just another confirmation from the rejection i experienced in high school. this wasn't worth it. why did i even care so much? i wish i was as good at music as my extremely talented siblings." but thank goodness for a great mom and my brother. but most of all, i am thankful for a Heavenly Father who sent his comforting Spirit to me last night.
so am i glad that i dared greatly? yes. because despite the rejection, and the "failure"- i showed up. i was engaged. i put myself out there, in a way that for me is extremely vulnerable. i stepped into the arena. and i fought for a bit. and that gives me courage to dare greatly today and tomorrow. {and i'm going to keep on singing, even if my steering wheel is the only one who hears me.}
so a couple weeks ago when i was driving back from canada my friend taylor texted me and told me i should audition for the orem institute choir. my first response was, "uhhhhh no." i love singing and i like choir but i had a shame-filled experience with singing when i was in high school. my junior year i auditioned for the chamber choir at high school. i'd been in voice lessons and i really wanted to get into chamber choir. i knew all my friends would be in chamber choir and both my siblings before me had been in it. i kind of felt like it was the only thing to do. and if i didn't get in, it meant i wasn't a good singer, i wasn't as good as any of my siblings (all of them who have finished high school so far have been in chamber choir), and that i was a failure. i remember walking into school the day that the chamber choir kids had got kidnapped. when i saw all my friends in their pj's milling around the choir room i almost did an about-face and walked out the door to leave school. i didn't want to come back. i spent my senior year watching my friends perform in the chamber choir- and to be honest i cried at almost every performance. for years i wouldn't sing in front of people who i perceived to be better singers than i was- even if we were just singing along to songs in the car. i was too self conscious. i never auditioned for a choir at byu because i didn't want to not make it in (especially when my brothers who attended byu with me were in Men's Chorus). my final semester i took voice lessons at byu and started to feel confident about my voice again. i had a great teacher who really helped me feel like i had something unique in my voice.
but i still compared my voice. i know. it's a weird thing to compare to others. but i did. i compared to my siblings, companions, friends. but i started to feel pretty comfortable with my voice- feeling like i could actually sing as well as i wanted to.
after giving it some thought, i decided to audition for institute choir. not only would it be a good way to get new friends (which i really need) but it would help me sing on a consistent basis while feeling the spirit and sharing the gospel. i was pretty excited. and nervous. seriously i almost lost it while trying to find parking at UVU because i was so stressed about auditioning! then i had to wait, sitting listening to everyone else audition, for more than an hour. my mind started going through all the BAD outcomes. and i almost just ditched out. was it worth it? i kept reminding myself that i was "daring greatly." i needed to do this. so i did.
i felt pretty good about my audition. and excited. looking forward to a good experience this year in choir. i was glad that i had auditioned.
yesterday when i got the text that told me i didn't get into choir, i was at work. i didn't let myself think about it too much. because honestly, i needed to focus on work, or i'd realize how crushed i was.
guys, i'm still human.
i wanted to get into choir. i know my audition was good, but the thought that ran through my head was that it (the audition, my voice, who i am) wasn't good enough. i was in a total shame melt down. "why had i even auditioned? this was just another confirmation from the rejection i experienced in high school. this wasn't worth it. why did i even care so much? i wish i was as good at music as my extremely talented siblings." but thank goodness for a great mom and my brother. but most of all, i am thankful for a Heavenly Father who sent his comforting Spirit to me last night.
so am i glad that i dared greatly? yes. because despite the rejection, and the "failure"- i showed up. i was engaged. i put myself out there, in a way that for me is extremely vulnerable. i stepped into the arena. and i fought for a bit. and that gives me courage to dare greatly today and tomorrow. {and i'm going to keep on singing, even if my steering wheel is the only one who hears me.}
"Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage."
