It's been a while, folks.
It's not that I haven't been thinking of writing. It's not that I haven't wanted to write. It has been, mostly, that everything that I want to write about these days is too personal/depressing/embarrassing to share on the internet. There it is.
The bare naked truth of it is that I have not been so good about keeping the drama on the stage, these past few months.
I keep waiting for my life to clean itself up so that I can want to write about palatable things again--like lovely walks I take in picturesque neighborhoods in Norfolk, Virginia...interesting conversations I have on the train to Bremen. A great meal I had in Portland: something engaging yet decidedly impersonal.
It hasn't happened yet. After all these months of patiently waiting for the drama to recede, my life is still kind of a mess.
I don't know what's going on with me. Maybe it's my age. I'm in my middle thirties (roughly), and all Hell seems to be breaking loose. I hate to sound melodramatic, but it's been a time for me of real heartbreak and loneliness and anxiety. I'm exhausted. I keep having these deep and unresolvable thoughts about LIFE (yes, it's the kind of thinking that requires the caps lock) and my FUTURE and what I REALLY want. I'm very ambivalent about everything, and my vacillation is beginning to annoy even me, so I am loath to imagine what kind of bother I'm putting my family and friends through. Is this a third-of-life crisis, or something? I'm a little young for a mid-life crisis. But if this were a third-of-life crisis, I would have to plan on living to 102. That seems excessively optimistic.
I've spent more time than I would have liked this year mourning and getting over lost or unrequited love. I've spent a lot of time, too, feeling displaced and home-less. All of the rest of my time, it seems, I have spent singing.
Of course, that's not entirely true. I've had some very good non-musical moments this year. I've laughed and felt cared for and experienced lots of new and interesting things. But, when I'm in a hotel room with a noisy refrigerator and generic wall-art, by myself, pondering unanswerable and enormous questions--if I'll ever have a man in my life who will hang in there with me for longer than 3 months; if I will ever own a house that has all my stuff in it that I can afford to leave empty (and waiting for me) when I'm on the road singing; if I'll ever have the fortune to express my humanity as a mother or a wife (or both!!) in addition to expressing it as a soprano--that's what it feels like; that I'm floundering except for when I'm actively engaged in music-making. It's a crappy feeling. It makes me feel like a one-horse show. I have more to offer this world than my two little vocal chords, don't I?
The kicker is this: all that's wrong with my life right now, all the things that I would change if I could, I can't change by myself. Everything I have control over is going well! I realize that fact, and am very grateful. I almost feel ashamed for wanting more. Who am I to complain? I'm working regularly, I'm proud of the way I'm singing, and I'm able to pay all my bills. I have great friends who love me and a small but very supportive family. I have my health. SERIOUSLY, who am I to complain?
And yet, I do complain. I am genuinely terrified about being alone for the rest of my life. I'm afraid that all I'll have at the end of this career is anecdotal stories and a full passport. I want a family. I want to feel part of a unit. I want the kind of stability that comes from building a home with someone, and filling it full of stuff that one cares about and takes responsibility for. I want to build something beyond me and these two little vocal chords. And yet, I can't will this stuff to happen. This seems to be the crux of my current frustration: the impotence of my will.
The people who are around me to witness my frustration, who love me, tell me that I have to be patient. That "things" come when they are supposed to. That I am doing what I am supposed to be doing, and that "things" will work out as they should. Maybe they are right. I just wish "things" would hurry up already. I have an agenda.
Let's talk about this again in 10 years, at my real mid-life crisis. I still hold out a faint hope that I will have made some progress by then. Whether the progress will be made in my agenda or my ability to patiently wait remains to be seen.
Friday, October 7, 2011
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ME - just want to let you know that you are NOT alone in every one of these feelings - especially in that they seem to contradict each other. Feeling successful and happy in one part of your life doesn't necessarily mean feeling satisfied or fulfilled in the others. I think this is true of most women who, for reasons generally dictated by circumstances, focus so totally on nurturing the one part (training your voice and building your career) for so long that the other part gets left in the wake. Even when you try to 'do' both. I have experienced such similar feelings and frustrations, and having come very recently and very suddenly to some real life changing decisions, understand that sometimes you have to ride it out while your subconscious works it out. Your music comes from within you and is informed by your experiences and feelings, but it is not all of you, sometimes it just feels like you've nurtured it and worked so hard for it that it's like your child. I have no doubt whatsoever that you will also at some point, build yourself a family either with a partner or on your own. Continue to wish out loud for the things you want in your life - and continue to live your life a day at a time. I agree with your friends about patience, but I also know what it's like to have an agenda! So keep saying it, keep dreaming it, keep looking for it and your path will make itself known to you.
ReplyDelete"If I keep a green bough in my heart, then the singing bird will come." - Chinese proverb
Take good care, girl!
K