There's A Crack In Everything...

A friend posted the quote from Leonard Cohen this morning.  "Ring the bells that still will ring, forget your perfect offering.  There's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in."

It is one of my very favorites.  It spoke to me especially right after our dog Bear died.  It broke my heart.  He was such a sweet boy, and had fought through so much in his 13 years on this earth, and I STILL miss him.

Today, though, it fit with my ruminations about music.
There is a true feast of music available to us today.  You can search out and find something beautiful to just about any taste.  My own musical horizons have been expanded by interactions with friends sharing their favorites online.  To think I might not have found Post Modern Jukebox, or Pink Martini; that would have been tragic!

Where the quote comes in is in my own pondering over the recital I will sing in on Sunday.  It is the holiday recital given by the voice students of Karen Smith-Pearson.  We range in age and skill level all up AND down the spectrum.  There are always mistakes.  The mistakes aren't a problem.  They are beautiful reminders that we are present in a REAL moment, hearing music made LIVE, by people who sing because they LOVE it.  When you are the one making the mistakes, though, they feel awful.  I especially feel a burden, because I SHOULD be able to give a near-perfect performance.  I've been at this a LONG time now.  As always in my life though, I just don't have the time or patience with myself to practice as much as I really NEED to.  I will practice, I run over the runs in my head, my subconscious chews on the piece constantly.  I even hear it in my DREAMS!
The piece I will do my best not to mutilate on Sunday evening is "Rejoice Greatly, O Daughter Of Zion" by Handel.  (From The Messiah).
My worries aside, the recital will be wonderful.  In this world, we tend to be far too concerned about "perfection" and not nearly concerned enough about the beauty of spontaneous humanity.  Music is an expression of the soul, it is not always going to be perfect, especially not if performed with true feeling.  Emotions are an important part of humanity, and are reflected in our music.  Voices are as individual as we are, there should be NO SUCH THING as Autotune.  It is a lie.  Live performance, out in the open, exposed, on your own with just the piano, that is a scary, scary place to be if you are not the world's most confident singer.  (And I most assuredly am NOT.)  I would wager there are some pop sensations out there today who would not do so well in that environment as even our most timid young singer.  When you sing like we do at this recital, you are putting yourself out there, warts, flat notes, forgotten lyrics and all for others to hear.  In THIS crowd of fellow students, chances are that the more experienced students who sing in the same voice part have done your piece themselves.  They know it intimately.  They will KNOW when you screw up.
Those who hide behind Autotune and studio fixes would not like this environment.  You have to be true, you have to be human, and you have to count on the charity of your fellow humans when you step up to sing at one of our recitals.

Truth is important in this life.  It isn't always pretty, sometimes it's painful, but it is the only thing that will stand in the end.  It has taken me a long time to figure this out, but I am now content to be who I am, to stand up and sing because I LOVE the music, and I want to share it.  I also learned that when you DO step out in sincerity and truth, people respond well for the most part.  They honor it, because sincerity is a beautiful thing.  Truthfulness is difficult; it leaves you vulnerable.  Learning to be vulnerable when you have spent a whole lifetime trying to protect yourself is very hard.  A long,  slow process.  This has been happening for me over the last few years.  Friends have noticed.  I am more willing to speak up, more open and present in conversation, more willing to forgive others their faults because I have learned that others will forgive me mine. I do not have to be perfect.  I just have to be myself.

There are people out there who hide their truth, and lie about themselves constantly.  How much they must be hurting to live like that.  Perhaps they have tried showing their real selves before, and have been badly hurt.  We humans are not always so kind to one another.  I know, from hiding, not really lying, just not sharing, who I am how isolating and how difficult life is under those circumstances.  You miss SO much, you miss the joy to be found in sharing with others.  It's easier to focus on others when they sense you are sincere, and they in turn are relaxed and sharing with you.

One of the things I loved most about Easy Street: The Hard Way, Ron Perlman's memoir, is that he tells it completely in his own voice, no trying to sound like someone he's not, no hiding behind a ghost writer, he puts it all out there.
 A favorite quote from his book:  "What's the point in having a hero in name only?  What good is it to admire someone and not be willing to emulate them and to try to live up to the qualities that made them inspirational to you in the first place? They stood for things that were noble, spoke about the human condition.  What good is it to complain about cowardice or the lack of backbone or resolve that you see in others if you're going to do the same things? Whenever I catch myself being hypocritical I chastise myself, have trouble sleeping at night."

This challenged me to be more true to myself, to live more fully into the faith I profess, to stop hiding and start living.  Some may say that I am just being a "fangirl", but Mr. Perlman seems more like one of my siblings to me.  I have met the man, however briefly, and I know he is the genuine article.  He puts himself out there, flaws and all, and ya know what? It makes him loveable.  He makes you feel at ease, because he isn't pretending.  He genuinely appreciates his fans.

I guess the point of all these ruminations is this:  It takes guts to really be ourselves, to step out and do the things we want to do, to stand up for what we really believe. I was timid and content to lurk in the shadows, afraid to let my flaws be seen for so many years, it has taken a lot of work to finally really join the rest of the world.
It  takes courage to stand up in front of a bunch of people and sing.  I have finally found that courage. It is also important to cherish those flubs, goofs and flaws that make a live performance REAL.  They let you know you are HERE, living this moment, this isn't a creation made by a machine.  This is REAL.  This is HUMAN.