Vulnerability

I've been thinking a lot about vulnerability lately.

I teach about vulnerability in voice lessons.  Singing is about taking chances.   Kids have issues with performing sometimes because singing is so intimate.  I'm not saying that playing for a piano or flute recital won't scare you, but if you make a mistake while playing an instrument, you can always blame it on the instrument.  "This piano is stiffer than the one I'm used to playing on" or "The key stuck".  At the very least, you have an instrument to hide behind.  But not with singing.  It's you on that stage with nothing between you and the audience.  Even if there is an problem with instrument (your voice), it is still part of you, and therefore YOU had a problem.  And in our current world, particularly in the arts, anything less than perfection is failure.

Vulnerability is essential to singing. Singing, real singing, is about baring your soul for the world to see. It's trusting them to see the beauty through the flaws.  It's trusting them to know that sometime the beauty is the flaw.  It's trusting yourself enough to let the beauty created by the poets and composers carry the performance, and not getting caught up in what the listeners think about you.

A few weeks ago, a friend made a reference to these videos in a Facebook conversation.  I've done quite a bit of reading about vulnerability and shame, so I thought, "That's nice.  I'll come back to that later."  After multiple friends shared these videos, I decided that maybe the universe was trying to tell me something.  One watching was not enough.  Next time, I'm sitting down with a paper and pencil and taking notes.  Yes, the videos are that good.  





My third recent encounter with vulnerability was reading the book The God Who Weeps.  In a few days, my book review will be up on my new book blog.  One chapter is specifically about God's vulnerability.  God feels our pain and sorrows and frustrations.  God chooses to love us, and because of that love he opens himself to sympathy and empathy, and weeps with us.

When I was a child, I was taught that we could become as God.  If we lived this life well, we would eventually become gods and goddesses ourselves.  To be honest, this has always bothered me.  My heart weeps for this world, and this world is not my creation and these people are not my spirit children.    I invest a lot in my students and it is hard for me to see them struggle.  I don't really want to watch billions of my children hate and kill each other.  I just don't think I could live with that kind of vulnerability.  I think I would have to be a god like so many people today have decided that our God is:  one who sets things in motion, but then turns his back, unwilling or perhaps unable to do anything about it.  I would have to separate myself to prevent the pain.

I am extremely empathic and sympathetic.  I've built walls, not just to protect the core of me from the outside world, but to protect me from being overwhelmed by the pain and suffering.  Over the last several year, I have become much more open to letting the world see the real me.  On that level, I think I'm getting good at vulnerability.  The walls that protect me from the pain and suffering of the world aren't solid brick.  They have doors and windows that I can open to let it in at the small doses I can handle.  At this point, I don't know if I am supposed to be learning to open the doors and windows wider and more often, or if I am supposed to take down the wall completely.  What I do know is that love and connection can't get in or out through the brick walls.  Moving through the open windows and doors (and maybe even taking down the wall) is the only way that compassion can work.  And I believe in empathy and compassion, so maybe it's time to explore more vulnerability.

Options

Sometimes when it seems that nothing else could possibly go wrong, you have little ah-ha! moments.  Last week, I spent one evening in Urgent Care getting a leg injury from the week before checked out.  The next day, I day I developed laryngitis, and by the day after that I had no voice at all.  I had lots of reasons to be down and depressed, but I wasn't.  I'll admit I was slightly concerned, but my worries led down a different path this time.

Anytime a singer or voice teacher loses her voice, there is cause for concern.  And the suddenness of the onset had me worried a little, but I was pretty sure I knew what had happened, and a quick call to the doctor's office confirmed it.  The asthma meds I was taking because of the cold I had at the beginning of the month had caused the laryngitis.  One more drug to add to the list of things that I can't take.  After discontinuing the use of that medication, my voice started to come back and although it's not at 100% yet, I'm sure it soon will be.

But in those moments when my brain was asking, "What if it never comes back?" I didn't have my usual response.  I am a voice teacher.  That's what I do.  It's who I am.  It's what I spent years training for.  If I can't teach, basically the only other things I am qualified for are minimum wage jobs.  And in the past, that fear of not being able to teach and sing has sometimes been overwhelming.  But this time, it was different.  Singing and teaching are things I love, but they are not all of me.  It is not my entire identity.  And there are other career options that I could see myself re-training for.

The world is a lot less scary when you don't feel trapped.  Possibilities and options give hope through the tough times, and I'm so glad I could see them this time.

The good news is that I can still teach and I can still sing.  The good news is that I now also know that even if I couldn't do those things, I would still be OK and other doors would open for me.  AB told me that years ago.  I believed him.  I saw it in his life.  But now I know it is true in mine.  I wish I could call him and tell him that I finally get it.

When the Ideal Isn't Reality

There is a lot talk these days, especially with the current political climate, about how things "should" be. The ideal is certainly something that we want to be working towards, but we also need the skills (and programs, support, money, laws, etc.) to deal with the reality of what is.

I worked with a wonderful voice teacher that taught me how to make intelligent choices about where and where not to breathe in a song. In a perfect situation, the composer has aligned text phrases with musical phrases that aren't too long to perform in one breath. In reality, what a poet has to say in one phrase of text may extend through two, three, or even four musical phrases. Or the musical phrase and the text phrase may match up, but be impossibly long for the singer. Or the musical and text phrases may not line up at all.

Even when you have that perfect musical/text match-up that works well within what the singer can do in one breath, problems can arise. I was sick for nearly a month before my last performance. My asthma means that breathing for singing is the last thing to return to normal. And being nervous will also change how your body uses the air, so you may have many "surprise" deviations from the breathing plan during a performance.

If we only teach a student where the ideal breathing spots are, we leave them vulnerable when they go into a situation similar to that last performance of mine. But I did just fine. And you know why? Because the same teacher that taught me how to make the best possible choice for a place to breath also taught me how to cope when that is just plain not going to happen. I think we do a disservice to our students when we only prepare them for the ideal and don't teach them how to deal with the less than ideal.

I believe that too many kids have sex way too early. I'm OK with abstinence being the ideal. But for many people it is not the reality. If all we teach is abstinence, we leave these kids vulnerable to pregnancy, disease, and heartbreak. I am a huge supporter of sex-education, ideally in the home, but since that is not a reality for a lot of people, it does need to be available elsewhere. For years I've toyed with the idea of selling condoms to parents to give to their kids when they have that talk. For the Mormons, the condom itself would say "CTR", Choose the Right, a phrase the kids have heard since childhood. We could do "WWJD" for our Evangelical Christian friends. The parents can say, "I think you should wait because (fill in the blank with your religious/moral view), but if you do have sex, please be safe." Then the kid carries it in a purse or wallet and has one final reminder from Mom/Dad/God before they make that big decision. It may encourage them to wait. Or it may just mean that they come home not pregnant and disease free. Are people really willing to sacrifice the lives of so many because ideally you shouldn't have sex until married, so we're not even going to talk about it and how to help the people that are having pre-marital sex?

Now that half of the people quit reading because they were offended, I'll continue on with one more example and this one is far less controversial.

I certified this weekend to teach Tai Chi. We spent a lot of time working on refining our own performance of the form and talking about how to work with the elderly and people with diseases and disabilities. We learned to model the form for our students, showing them the way it should be. We also learned that safety and comfort are more important than doing the movements the "right" way. We learned the ABC's of Tai Chi: Always Be Comfortable. We can help students adapt the form to make it more comfortable for their current physical condition. In the perfect world, we would all be thin, with joints and muscles that functioned properly, and brains that enabled clear thinking and memory. But if I only teach to that ideal, the people that need Tai Chi the most won't be able to do it. Heck, I wouldn't be able to do it.

One of the most beautiful things mentioned in the Tai Chi training was that Tai Chi is an internal art, not an external one. If we get caught up in the choreography we miss the real benefits. What the body does on the outside is a way of enabling the internal, but the mind is a powerful thing. If all a student can do is think about moving their hand, they still benefit.

I'm not opposed to teaching the ideal. In fact, I think it is important. We need to know where we want to go, what we want to achieve. But we also need to deal with the realities of the here and now. And failure to talk about that reality and find ways to cope with it leaves a lot of people in the dark, alone and afraid.

It Takes Time

I am loving my new journey of learning Tai Chi. And I am amazed (though I probably shouldn't be) and how many similarities there are between this and studying/teaching voice. When I first began my Master's degree in vocal performance, my teacher had me read Brenda Ueland's book If You Want to Write. She said to just substitute sing whenever Ueland said write. The book is amazing and has influenced me both as a writer and a singer. In Dr. Paul Lam's latest newsletter, I found an article and a link to a video that once again reminded me how closely related the things that I love are.

The article is actually the text from Brenda Hum's talk that she gave at a Tai Chi Conference. "What does the Spirit of Tai Chi Mean?" is a beautiful exploration of what Tai Chi can do for us as individuals and as a group. If you substitute the word music, you could give this talk at a music educators' conference. Please read it. All I can add is AMEN!



The video of Marty Kidder's talk is hilarious, especially as he shares "code" phrases for how to encourage your students and what the teacher might really be thinking. Students--I just want you to know that I've been using these phrases for years, and not because you are clueless, but for the reasons he states at the end. The pursuit of any worthy goal takes time and discipline and a willingness to risk and even embrace failure in order to learn.

Someone recently asked me about my interests and activities and I mumbled a few things and then felt like I must live a pretty boring life. I think she just caught me at a bad time. The truth is, I live a pretty amazing life. I love to explore--places, ideas, feelings. I read a lot. Lately it's been more news and blogs than books, but I can't stop reading. I love watching plants and animals and people. You can learn so much from quiet observation. I love music, tai chi, and writing and those 3 interests alone could provide a lifetime of learning and challenges. I'm not perfect, and I don't have to be to really enjoy them. The mastering of any skill or art takes time, and even the greatest masters never stop learning and practicing.

There are 3 things that I believe. First, that truth can be found in many places. Second, that it's perfectly OK and even good to remove that truth from its original context and find how it applies to my life right now. Third, we find truth and its application to our lives when we are ready for it.
So, yesterday I flipped open my scripture a day calendar and found truth that has been staring me in the face my whole life, but I just wasn't ready for it.

Alma 29:1 (That's in the Book of Mormon for you non-Mormons.)
Oh that I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God, with a voice to shake the earth, and cry repentance unto every people.

Let me give you a little background as to why I never found truth here before. First of all, this is a often quoted scripture in Mormondom. As I'm sure you know, missionary work is big in this church. In fact, I've often complained that we talk more about missionary work than the gospel itself, but that's a post for another day. When my bishop asked me if I was interested in going on a mission, my reply was that I just didn't feel it was the right thing at that point in my life. And that was the truth. My personal feelings about missionary work are that if I am living in a way that people see something that they want, then they will ask me about it. I've never been a go out and tell the world person. I'm a little that way in advertising for voice lessons as well. Yes, I am the one that goes to Orientation and Open House to talk to parents and kids about lessons, but generally I believe that the work I do speaks for itself. If students like what happens in my studio, they will tell friends and family.

So, I've never been one to go out and tell the world to change their lives. I also really had an issue with "crying repentance". The images that came to mind with that phrase are of people on street corners yelling that we are all doomed to Hell unless we change our evil ways.

But yesterday when I read this verse, "crying repentance" meant sharing the joy that we don't have to be stuck in awful situations. Repentance is about life changes. It's about moving forward in positive ways. That is something that I want to share with every people.

So instead of just being done with scriptures for the day, I opened my Book of Mormon to the full chapter to see what else was there. I'll be honest, some of it still doesn't sit very well with me, but I also saw that Alma's feelings about "crying repentance" are very similar to my feelings about teaching people to sing. My comments are in bold.

6 Now, seeing that I know these things, why should I desire more than to perform the work to which I have been called? Sometimes I feel like I should be doing more or doing something that carries more prestige (performing professionally or teaching at a university instead of high school). I know, however, that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. This is where I'm supposed to be and where I can make a difference.

8 For behold, the Lord doth grant unto all nations, of their own nation and tongue, to teach his word, yea, in wisdom, all that he seeth fit that they should have; therefore we see that the Lord doth counsel in wisdom, according to that which is just and true. I don't have to save the art of singing all by myself. Wonderful teachers and performers are in place to help make sure that happens. I just need to take care of my kids.

9 I know that which the Lord hath commanded me, and I glory in it. I do not glory of myself, but I glory in that which the Lord hath commanded me; yea, and this is my glory, that perhaps I may be an instrument in the hands of God to bring some soul to repentance; and this is my joy. Singing and teaching are not about me and my ego. It's about the music and when I can help someone find joy in their lives through music, then I find joy as well. I love being the person that brings light and truth. And I'm glad that God, the universe, and my co-workers have trusted me with this task.

10 And behold, when I see many of my brethren truly penitent, and coming to the Lord their God, then is my soul filled with joy; then do I remember what the Lord has done for me, yea, even that he hath heard my prayer; yea, then do I remember his merciful arm which he extended towards me. I have been given the amazing gift of music and I am so thankful for it in my life.


14 But I do not joy in my own success alone, but my joy is more full because of the success of my brethren, who have been up to the land of Nephi.

15 Behold, they have labored exceedingly, and have brought forth much fruit; and how great shall be their reward!

16 Now, when I think of the success of these my brethren my soul is carried away, even to the separation of it from the body, as it were, so great is my joy.
It's not just my singing that brings joy into my life. When my students make beautiful sound or discover something new in themselves, or when my colleagues have success in their teaching and performing, it gives me joy. There is not a limit on the amount of joy that can exist. Others succeeding does not take anything away from me.

So there you have it--The Gospel According to Jeannine

Why don't I learn?

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post about how the Lord likes to remind me who gave me my talents and what he wants me to use them for. I had 5 performances coming up and was fighting allergy related laryngitis. All the performances were fine, not my best, but good enough. When we do what we can, the Lord really does take care of the rest. I've learned that. Can I have my voice back now?

This week it is my body that is sending me serious reminders. When I don't put my physical health first and put the time I need to into good nutrition, exercise, and adequate rest, my body decides to force me to rest. When I don't take care of myself, I get sick. It's like my body says,"I need rest and if you don't give it to me, I'm going to force you to take it. I don't really like those germ guys any more than you do, but I'll let them have control if that is the only way I can get what I need."

I know this, so why do I keep letting myself get to this point. At least this time my body only pulled in the "germ team" and the "pain team". It's had to do worse to get me to pay attention.

Why can't I learn to listen when the Lord and my body speak quietly and give little hints that something needs to change? I know it. Now, let me do it.

Trust and Change

Trust and change--two things I'm not very good at, but am being forced to learn to deal with.

Sometimes, I think the Lord uses my talents to remind me who is really in charge. And the funny part is that this is one of the few areas of my life that I feel I can completely turn over to Him, where I can give up control.

I sang with the choir in Stake Conference today, and have 4 other small performances in the next two weeks--all of them church related. I've been struggling with allergy-related laryngitis, but I'm not worried. I know that if the Lord needs me to sing, that whatever I can do will be enough and he will take care of the rest. It always works that way when I sing for church. Tomorrow I am singing at the funeral of a dear sweet woman that I have jokingly referred to as the president of my fan club. She has always been so kind to me and supportive of my singing. She has asked me to sing in her ward many times and I loved looking out into the congregation and seeing her smiling back at me. It will be strange not to see that tomorrow. I will miss her, but I would never miss the opportunity to sing for her funeral. I'm singing "O Divine Redeemer" which is not easy when I'm healthy, but my only concern is not getting too emotional. She had a strong testimony of the Savior and the Atonement which is what this song is all about.

I don't know why it is so easy for me to trust regarding singing, but so hard in other areas of my life. Maybe because my relationship with music is so different from other things in my life, but that's a post for another day.

I don't deal well with change. I know it is important, and I make do, but I don't like it. Today, due to boundary changes, we sustained a new stake presidency. I'm sure that the work will go on and all will be well, but I will miss the stake president that was released. He was an anchor for me. When I moved closer to work, I made the final choice about apartments based on which one would leave me in this stake. I've gone to Stake Conference meetings even when I felt horrible because I knew that what he had to say would be important to me, and the way in which he would say it would make sense to me (that doesn't happen often for me with church). I will miss his strength.

I also learned recently that a friend will be moving (if they can sell their house). This change is another that I am not looking forward to. I have been too busy in my own life lately to be a good friend. Perhaps that is part of the sorrow here--lost opportunity.