When all fails… sing!

It’s January. A time of renewed hope - for ourselves, our intentions, our lives. A time to take stock, a time to chart directions, an imaginary map of our life, steered by the best-serving intentions.

Do you sense mockery in my tone? Maybe. For this year, I draw a blank. Boredom? Inertia? A sense of futility? Been there done that? Been there, failed at that?  

Perhaps it is time to try something new. How about looking at something we already do – something that saves us? I close my eyes and search for the first thing to pop into my head.

When things get rough, sometimes, I simply sing.

Really? Is that all you got? I ask myself. Just great. So here, let me continue on my series of unsound advice.

But first let me tell you how I think it all began. I may have my sister to thank. I was probably nine years old and she was nineteen. We went to a very crowded temple fair and the two of us got on the Ferris wheel. It was great, you could see the lights and the city below. Till suddenly, it wasn’t so great. Something was wrong with the Ferris wheel. It was rickety and shaky. Maybe it was just our pod that was shaking like crazy, or maybe it was all of them.  Our fingers clenched the rail. I held my breath. Clearly, we were doomed.

And just when things couldn’t get worse, they did. The Ferris wheel stopped moving. And yes, we were on the top. Because it would all be too easy and simple if we were in the gondola right at the bottom, where escape would seem easy or possible, right?

Right. At that point in my life, I turned to my sister, who was ten years older than me, and had all the answers. Always. And to everything. 

“Let’s sing!” she said. That was her solution. And since she had all the answers. Always. And to everything, I figured that was our only choice. “Sing what?” I probably asked terrified. As if our song choice were the most important thing in that moment. Well, I’m almost certain I asked that.

I am certain we sang “Top of the world”. Not sure if that was her choice or mine, in any case, at least today, it seems like a terrible one. While our exact playlist may be a fuzzy memory, I am certain of the panic-stricken volume in which we sang or screeched in.  

Convinced that the sheer volume of our voices could drown out all our fears, we sang like our lives depended on it. In that moment we probably believed it. It was our only solution.

And maybe it was. And maybe it continues to be. For sometimes, when nothing makes sense, I sing.

There have been many times I have done so. In the car, returning from a doctor’s appointment, feeling helpless, or frustrated. And volume be damned - I sing so loudly, that passing cars with their windows rolled up can hear me. At times, in writhing pain, or unable to make sense of new diagnoses, or simply overwhelm, when nothing makes sense, I sing.

And sometimes I sing in my head – in the middle of strange, unnerving, or unpleasant situations. In a crowd, or in public, when I can't sing aloud, I sing in my head. Yeah yeah, I know how crazy all this sounds. To add to this, I often sing to incorrect lyrics. Yes, I often make up lyrics as I go, at times even convinced mine are better than the original.

Not sure if all this will make you want to attempt this, but try it. It works. And it is time tested. For my sister has all the answers. Always. And to everything. 

Happy New Year!

Love,

Ruta