Do You Have the Courage to Share Your Gift With the World?
"Am I annoying you?". Since junior high, my friends have always so 'NO' but I never believed them. My entire life, I've always sprung out of bed like the 'Don't Wake Daddy' doll, danced around the kitchen at dawn, blasted music out the windows to wake up the neighbors and been ready to run a marathon of hyper dancing, non-stop singing and hard-core-work-focus all day long. At night, I'm still buzzing into the darkness, playing music long after everyone put down their instruments, creating things after everyone else flicked on the TV, and wanting to stay up all night and talk after everyone else has dropped their eyelids. I just moved into a new house with 3 roommates (my boyfriend, boyfriend's brother & boyfriend's brother's girlfriend). I work from home so most of the day I'm home alone; singing at the top of my lungs, writing music. But when the clock strikes 5 and they all come home, my voice gets stomped down into a little whisper. I'm shy. I'm afraid they'll hear me. I'm paranoid that my music will be disruptive. That I'll bother them. I live in constant fear that I'm too bright for people. That my energy will push friends away; that they wish I'd just act normal and be calm and quiet like them. People tell me my bright energy is what they love most about me but it's hard to believe those words when they're glaring at me over their morning coffee cup. No wonder I sing like a squeaky mouse, afraid to wake the hungry cats. How do I overcome this fear? Do I just say, "Screw it!" and throw my arms around my guitar and play until they bang on the wall and tell me to SHUT UP! (That happened once in college.) I like that idea. I'd like to stop worrying and just get so wrapped up in my own world that I either don't give a shit about what other people think or I get so incredible that the noise I'm making is "music to their ears"...literally. My best trick for overcoming this fear is imagining a future scenario where I'm a famous musician being interviewed for a magazine (let's say...Rolling Stone, why not) and the reporter asks my friends, "What's your best memory of Chamonix before she was famous?" and they'll say, "I remember when we were in our twenties and we lived in this house in Bellevue and I woke up every morning to the sound of her singing in the kitchen and sometimes it drove me crazy because I was tired but I always thought it was beautiful. She played constantly. When we were watching movies, she was playing piano. When we were cooking dinner, she was playing guitar. When we were camping, she would be sitting out on some rock writing lyrics in her notebook. When we went grocery shopping she would be singing to everyone in the checkout line. After concerts, she would sing hit song to strangers in the parking lot to make them smile. She wanted to keep the party going. She always made sure our lives were full of music. When I moved out, I noticed how quiet my life was. I missed her music. I didn't realize just how much it brightened up every day of my life while we were living together. That's definitely her gift to the world. She lights up the world with music." What do you want people to remember about you? What gift do you have to give that will brighten this period of their lives? If you hold back, what are you robbing them of? For their sake, don't hold back. The world is waiting for you, longing for what you have to offer, hoping that you'll find the courage to share. // Chamonix