|For the love of singing|
My Audition for the Voice
Last year, when I was still reeling from the aftermath of a head injury, I promised myself one thing: that I would live more boldly.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had an amazing life but the injury enabled me to see that I had stopped living from the heart and I had forgotten to dream.
I had earned a doctoral degree by 26, had been a stand-up comedian, had my own nationally syndicated TV show, had written and published numerous best sellers, and had lectured to audiences of thousands, but when I became the mother of my sister’s children and then a few more with similar backgrounds, I avoided anything that might seem irrational.
I love my kids and their ability to make me grow beyond my expectations, but those expectations made me stop wishing on shooting stars and riding on wooden roller coasters.
I played my life safely, making sure that whatever I did yielded something that could take care of them.
Then I hit my head and my illogical logic came back. I recognized that everything I had achieved was a result of thinking far away from any box.
After watching Brene Brown again, I thought about my own lack of vulnerability. Yes, I speak to thousands and travel all over the place, but I am really, really prepared. Brene points out that folks who allow themselves to be vulnerable deal with shame, rejection and life more whole-heartedly.
So I signed up for The Voice auditions. I wish I could tell you all about it, but you sign a thing that says you won’t.
I’ll tell you this. I didn’t make it; nor did hundreds of others who could sing the phone book backwards and win a Grammy for it.
I made new friends, had loads of fun and wished that I owned a label and could sign up all of these people who could sing and loved doing it. Then I’d drive them all around the country to sing for folks who loved to dance.
I didn’t care about my outcome; I did what I did to be more wholehearted, more daring more me.
What can you do that enables you to grow outside of your comfort zone? Think of something that gives you fear but would not possibly result in injury or death. What thing do you love but do not do because it does not provide a living?
What limb can you go out on, knowing that you have a way back; a friend to drive you around (thanks Lauralee and Tiph) and a daughter to listen to you over and over again?
Live boldly, lovingly and wholly.
Be you, be well, be BOLD.
Bertice Berry, PhD. www.berticeberry.com