Welcome to Following the Whispers blog
Thank you so much for taking the time to visit. Hope you enjoy your stay. I blog here whenever I feel the need. This blog was created at the time my memoir came out, in February, 2009. Its motto was: creating a life of inner peace and self-acceptance from the depths of despair. Now, my focus is sharing this journey we call life.
“Only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth, and that is not speaking it.” Naomi Wolf
“We are called human beings, not human doings.” Wes Nisker, Buddhist teacher
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs…(And) if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.” Theodore Roosevelt
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Living our Dreams
I didn't dance again until I was 16 and began folk dancing (cultural dances from countries around the world). That stopped when I married at 19. Didn't dance again till I was in my forties and met my current husband at the Albuquerque folkdance group. However, when I was 56, just after my graduation ceremony from college in 2005, my brand new Schwinn bicycle slid out from under me when I hit some gravel, and my right ankle shattered, fracturing in three places.
Laid up for almost a year, the depression nearly did me in. But one day a catalogue came in the mail, announcing continuing education classes. One of them was a singing class, something that had comforted me throughout a turbulent childhood. I signed up. It is a perfect example of the old saying, when one door closes, another opens.
Singing with the other members of the class wasn't a problem, but when I had to stand in front of anyone, my throat closed, my heart hammered inside my chest, and my voice came out cracked and off pitch, mostly because I could hardly breathe. For three years, I worked hard to overcome the old emotions and feelings that emerged when I become the center of attention.
I knew if I was going to publish my book, I would have to speak in front of audiences, and singing became my way to get comfortable being in the spotlight.
Last night my childhood dream came true. As part of an ensemble group that gives concerts at retirement communities, we performed for an audience of approximately 100 folks. In past programs, there was always one wrong note, or I couldn't put out enough energy to really do the song justice--something invariably happened to keep me from feeling good about what I was doing. Last night, however, I had a blast, and I could see that the audience received my song really well. They were smiling and mouthing the words, swaying in their seats, as I sang the song Doris Day made popular, "Everybody Loves a Lover." Google it if you don't know it.
No, it's not Broadway. And no, I won't become rich and famous singing and dancing. But I sure as heck had fun, and, I think, gave some pleasure to older folks who just don't get out to see shows anymore. I guess dreams don't really die. They may lie dormant, but somewhere deep inside, they are there, waiting.