Do What You Love, Even If You S*ck At It.

Riding in the backseat of our family’s Chrysler station wagon, I sang along with the radio. We were making the 45-minute drive home after visiting my grandparents. I don’t remember which late-70s country song was playing, but I do know I sang with gusto.

“You can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” said my dad from behind the steering wheel. Mortified, I kept my mouth shut the remainder of the trip.

I spent the next several decades mouthing along to songs in music class and church services. I looked like I was singing, but not a sound escaped my lips. I didn’t want to be embarrassed.

Childhood is a time to try things, to experiment and to discover what activities we love. Perfection isn’t the goal. Fun is the goal. But somewhere along the way our perspective changes.

Society, parents, teachers and others begin to celebrate what we do well. They often are quick to point out where we fail. Anything we don’t excel at gets sidelined or pushed out altogether. As we grow up, we abandon interests we enjoyed for the sheer fun of it.

Did you love painting, but put down your paintbrush because you were told your canvas wouldn’t hang in a gallery? Maybe you acted in school plays, but stopped because you were told you weren’t Broadway bound? Did you love playing guitar, but hung up that six-string when you realized you weren’t going to be in a band?

With each passing year we become more serious, losing our sense of play and adventure. To avoid failure, we stop trying new things. We stay on a tried and true path. We set our compass on the end result. We forget the fun of the journey.

For many, adulthood means leaving behind the foolishness of youth. At least for a while. But there comes a time when we realize wisdom can be found in the dreams of a child.

My love for singing has nothing to do with my talent as a vocalist. Lyrics, rhythm and melody are a beautiful trifecta. They combine to resonate and to connect with me on a soul level. Hours can pass without my realizing it when I’m singing to my favorite songs. The emotions of the song come to life for me. I feel it and I’m left crying or smiling or, maybe, a little of both. I disappear into the songs. I am a part of the song.

I needed to sing again.

Voice lessons seemed a logical first step. I explained my goals to my new coach. I want to feel comfortable singing out loud. I want to find my voice, whatever it is, and celebrate it. I wasn’t singing for the approval of others.

The first lesson was tough. I couldn’t coax a sound to come out. Fear was winning out. My wonderful coach then ran me through vocal exercises that only required a talking quasi-singing. It was the perfect place to start. I kept coming to my lessons, and soon I was singing while she played piano. Success.

Letting go of perfection. Letting go of what others think. If I could do this with singing, what else could be possible?

Doing something just for the love of it releases pent up energy. Can make us feel physically lighter, bring more color into our lives and expose a multidimensional being. These layers make us so much more than what we do for a living.

These joyful pursuits bear other fruits, too.

You’ll overcome fears. When you don’t worry about being perfect in your guilty pleasure, you’ll have less fear in other areas of your life as well.

Your brain changes. Learning something (whether you do it well or not) increases neuron connections in your brain.

You’ll get unstuck. If you feel like you are in a rut or lack inspiration, doing a fun activity will help you see new possibilities.

You’ll believe in yourself. Your self-confidence will climb, and you’ll trust your inner voice more when making decisions.

Write poetry, take a dance class, pick up a camera. Dive back into whatever hobby, sport or activity you once enjoyed. Have no expectations. Don’t worry about the result. Find that sense of love again.

Since taking voice lessons, I happily sing in the car – even when there are others riding with me. What else might I try again? There is a mandolin in my closet calling to me.

Angela Copeland, Elephant Academy Apprentice

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