I sang my heart out

I want to celebrate how amazing I am with you

so that you can celebrate you with me

together we can stand tall, beaming, blossoming

free.

Simply loving

smiling

dancing

encouraging

hugging

yes-ing

listening

nodding

understanding

creating

playing

expressing

leaping

jumping

twirling

thanking

sparkling

shining bright

growing and learning

sowing

and reaping

and all the hundreds of other

beautiful ways

to extend love in this

tender, delicate world - 

in so much need of you

and me

celebrating

being 

us.

Last night, I did it. I did it! Heart thumping so hard in my chest that I could see my clothes beating on my skin, my throat constricted, noticing the beautiful trees, unable to avoid seeing the big audience, I sang the song that was given me to sing - 'Tell Me On A Sunday', from the musical of that name.

It wasn't perfect. 

I missed the top notes, a second here, a second there.

But...

I did not fail. I did not mess up. 

I did the very best that I could. And I am PROUD of myself.

Sure I made a couple of mistakes; I'm human, and I'm an inexperienced singer. BUT! I was present, I sang with my heart beating wildly, and I imagined that all the audience were my friends, there to support and encourage me, to cheer me on (and they were, and they did). I gave it all that I had, and when that voice started its oh-so-predictable, unsolicited feedback afterwards, I took a deep breath, held my head high and ignored it. 

I ignored it!! Perhaps bigger than the achievement of singing in front of 150 people was the fact that I managed to choose again, to change my mind, without fits of tears, a tornado of self-hatred passing through my horizons. Not last night - it was just on the periphery, just breezing through town. I heard the loving feedback that I received:

Perfect pitch

Potential

Presence

Beautiful

Heartfelt

Lovely

Wonderful

A nice voice

Thank you! Thank you. I am letting it sink in. So often, I notice that as a woman, I just brush compliments aside. Well today I am breathing in and letting your words sink in. Thank you. My young, tender heart was nourished so deeply with your kind words and love.  And I'm so grateful too that you acknowledged my mistakes without shaming me, or placing any real importance on them. My mistake was just a moment of fear, and a few singing lessons and a bit more experience singing in public will certainly sort that out! For once, I am comfortable with being imperfect. It's wonderful!

And guess what... I really, really loved it. I love performing!

As well as the solo, I sang in two four-part harmony songs, and did the 'Cell Block Tango' from Chicago with the girls. I just LOVED 'Cell Block Tango' (I played June: "He ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times!") Fishnet tights, moody, intense - right up my street.

Afterwards (e.g. after I'd taken the really scary step!), a professional actor who was also in the cast has suggested a show that she thinks would really suit me, so I'm going to go away and look into that. By stepping through my fear to the other side, I have found that another door opens - I didn't know I'd be given such experienced, specific guidance as that.

In addition, a friend has asked if I would be in a music video for her (and Nige too!). Suddenly, all these exciting creative projects are flowing to me - and I keep on saying YES (thank you again, Julia and Alia for being continued inspirations to me).

So I'm celebrating. Head held high. I took up space in the world last night, deliberately and consciously, and it was more than okay - it was fun, entertaining, it connected me to people, I was part of something and we raised a big bunch of money for charity (amount tbc here soon!).

Hoooooorrrrraaaaaaaayyyyy!

The Girls singing 'Cell Block Tango' from Chicago
(can you see me in the middle?!)

The Sun Song

For a year now, I've been wanting to share a very special song with the world. It is a song I learned on my Shamanism month at Esalen in February last year, and it's called The Sun Song.

The Sun Song is one of a few songs we shamans learned, but of all of them, it's the one that's stayed with me and that I love the most, although I can actually recall any of the other songs we learned in a split second. These include the Thunderbeings song (which is entirely unrelated to the Thunderbirds), I Have Spirits, and I Circle Around, the last two of which we sang on a daily basis when we gathered in the evenings for our journeys into the upper and lower worlds (if this makes absolutely no sense to you, don't worry!)

Songs - and in particular singing - hold potent meaning for me. I remember being a tiny tot and loving to sing, especially at playgroup where we sang "See the sleeping bunnies". I loved this song so much in fact that over twenty years later, a friend of mine told me that her little girl sings it at nursery, and I almost had a fit as I realised that this was the exact same song that I used to sing!

When I was ten years old, I played the Angel Gabriel in our school nativity, and I sang a solo. My dad couldn't come to the concert that evening; he came the next evening, when my friend Sophie was singing the solo and I was simply singing along during the chorus. I remember feeling very upset about it and interpreting it to mean that somehow, I wasn't worth loving, and that there was something wrong with me.

Six months later, for our school leavers' concert, before my classmates and I left the comfort of Brandlehow Primary and went off to our respective secondary schools, I was offered a solo as Nancy from Oliver, but my classmates complained that I'd already had a solo that year, as Gabriel at Christmas time. It was another moment of shame for me connected with singing, and the fledgling belief that I am wrong to sing out loud began to cement in my heart.

  

After that, singing became a lot more awkward for me, and I lost confidence in my voice. During the first term at "big" school, I auditioned for a part in "My Fair Lady", and I got through to the second auditions! When I was asked to come and sing however, I made up an excuse about needing to go home and babysit, and despite my teacher Ms Bell practically begging me to stay and just do the audition quickly, I gave in to my fear and ran away.

In my final year of secondary school, I was in a play and had a duet song. No prizes for guessing that I talked my way - tantrumed my way in actual fact - out of singing.

And then, last year, a good ten years after these episodes, I found myself in California, singing on a daily basis and struggling at times to accept myself, and yet somehow, miraculously, really enjoying letting my soul just... well... sing. We drummed and sang and moved and rattled, and as the days and weeks sped past, our group became more and more trusting and more and more open, and the barriers came down, and I sang my heart out.

We learned the Sun Song on a beautiful California morning at ten o'clock, and stood together, faces upturned to the ball of fire gently warming our cheeks and kissing our eyelids, and we sang. I've sung this song many times since then, in many places - all over America; at the edge of the River Thames in London; here in the woods in Sussex. It's a song that I was intending to share with hundreds of people last year at the Burning Man festival in the US, but because I followed my intuition, I didn't go, and I am so grateful for that decision.

Many times over the last year, I've wanted to share this song, and at times I have even gotten over my self-consciousness and have sung it to a person or people. I've sung it to Nige, who regularly invites me to sing it with him in the woods at sunset. I've sung it to the young adults I worked with who have Aspergers Syndrome. And I've held back too; just last weekend, I wanted to share it with a beautiful group of women at a dance workshop, and fear won.

So, here it is. It's raw. It's not perfect. I don't take singing lessons. But it's from my heart and that makes it beautiful, however technically imperfect it might be. My intention for this is that it may bless your days and be something that you can carry in your heart, sing at your leisure and share with your loved ones.

Namaste x x x

The Sun Song - click to download

Morning sun, morning sun,

Come my way, come my way (x4)

Come my way, come my way, 

Take my pain, take my pain (x4)

Take my pain, take my pain,

Down below, down below (x4)

Down below, down below,

Cool water, down below (x4)

And at the end, a heartfelt, "Thank you sun!"