What does one say? In the aftermath, post-blossom and pre-crash, I feel bliss and a wish for more. To heap praises upon my own head is considered crass, yet praises were heaped and I would but repeat them. Ego and over-inflation of same is a problem in our world, one I have strained to avoid. I trained myself (as I was trained) to wait in shadowed corners, to applaud those standing brightly brandishing their wands in the spotlight, and I politely diverted attention inadvertently directed my way.

“Don’t notice me,” I’d state primly, virtuous in girlish modesty. “Don’t look, and don’t listen. I am no one. Look at HIM.” When I took the stage with others, it was them I sought to support, whose voices supplanted, superseded and defeated mine. Now, for the first time, I stand alone, and I have grown.

To stand in the light, to allow others to look at me, listen to me, notice me goes against every habit of my soul, yet these solo flights have ignited my flesh with fresh awakenings. At last, I believe that the shining eyes of those who receive must mean something. I am finally shedding my monstrously egotistical modesty (thinking myself special in being the one with nothing special to offer). At last, I acknowledge that I have a voice that gives pleasure, that enlightens, awakens, moves and soothes. At last, I believe.

I sang. I opened my mouth, shaped it around words and melodies graved so deeply I need not struggle to remember, and I let the wind blow through me. I grew. I filled with light and life, I smiled, I was (in the words of one present) “so charming.” This feedback disarms my cynical self-hater who sees nothing to admire in the mirror, which has slowly attenuated to a ghost, a wisp from past realities, losing credence and power. Now, I can stand on the ground and own my sound. I have a voice. This is what I do.

In short, I blew me away, that self which identifies with what others might think (as filtered through the judgments, self-shaming and belittling which has passed for ego, the the opposite and inverse of self-importance: self-negation). This doesn’t mean I’m suddenly a pillar of confidence, but I now have some ground to stand on. I’m still shy about initiating—(it takes a huge surge of motivation to compel me to attend an open mic)—but once there, newly centered confidence displaces the habitual shame.

Lyrics to my newest songs reflect a freshly-fledged sense of readiness: “I have a song, and I’m not afraid to sing it.” “I’m ready to become the one I really want to be.” “I have a choice, and this what I do.”

Alas, it is a sad statement on the state of my internal atmosphere that I actually feel ashamed of feeling good about no longer feeling bad about myself, and embarrassed about that. How convoluted, how twisted, how strange!

This is me, changing. This is me, learning who I am, accepting and transforming.

Glory hallefrigginlujah. And about time.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 18th, 2007 at 7:03 pm and is filed under about me, songs and music. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.