I’ve yet to decide whether the day after one learns bad news is easier than the prior.
I’ve had loved ones die and heard other bad news, and yet the “next day” has never twice been the same.
Sometimes I’m sad, sometimes I’m at peace and sometimes I’m like a tiger backed into a corner with her starving kittens behind her and a rare T-Bone steak on the other side of the room. Watch out! Today I’m a little bit of all of those emotions.
Last night I sang karaoke at the National Press Club and I picked songs that would let me work out my emotions (at least as a start). That’s what singing does, I realize, it allows my brain to let go of…., well, everything.
When I was a child I would sing little made up ditties to work out my feelings. I’d walk through the tall weeds in the field near our house and gather wildflowers, or I’d climb old trees in the woods. If I wasn’t with my neighborhood friends I’d be humming some little tune to myself.
Sometimes I would make up songs while playing the piano. When I discovered that I liked men I would sing love songs or songs of rejection to work out my emotions.
Yet there is no truly fitting song for this situation that I can think of except perhaps “the day the music died,” (and last night I realized another friend of the choir thought of the same song).
To say the music died is a bit extreme. The music hasn’t died, and even when the choir is supposed to end in May the music won’t die. Sure, a little piece of me will, but “I will survive.”
I may not sing in another choir again but I will still be alive, still have my friends and family and still have a wonderful city to enjoy.
There also is a jazz song that comes to mind that seems to match my mood today. I’ve made my mind up to not take lying down the arbitrary decision of people who are not emotionally invested in this choir, even the opinions of the ones who have gotten us to the heights we are today. I’m not sure what I’m going to do but…
In the meantime muse on these lyrics, from Diana Krall:
Start all over again
Nothings impossible I have found
For when my chin is on the ground I pick myself up,
dust myself off,
start all over again
Don’t lose your confidence if you slip
Be grateful for a pleasant trip
And pick yourself up,
dust yourself off
and start all over again
Work like a soul inspired till the battle of the day is won
You may be sick and tired but you’ll be a man my son
Don’t you remember the famous man who had to fall to rise again?
They picked themselves up,
dust themselves off
and started all over again
Don’t get me wrong. I’m still deeply sorrowful and angry. But I have a favorite phrase that applies to my frame of mind.
“Let those that say it cannot be done get out of the way of those already doing it!!!!!”
Well, naysayers, get the HELL out of my way, cause Esthernow’s on a mission and she’s not alone.
Note: My statements in no way represent the Master Chorale of Washington in whole or any of its members other than myself. They are my personal opinions.