Nancy Out Loud

So, How's Happiness?

“So, how’s the Happiness Project going?” she asked.

“Uh, oh, yeah… the Happiness Project,” I whispered.

“Yeah, you know. The one where you decided to choose to be happy for a whole month? Because of International Happiness Day? You wrote about it in..”

“Yeah, yeah! I remember, I remember! Well, it’s been a little rough…”

Be careful of what you write in blog posts.   Be careful of great ideas and month long experiments.  People may hold you to them. And THEN what are you going to do?

My Happiness Project started July 1, inspired by International Happiness Day, which was on July 10. I figured, hey, if I can choose to be happy for one day, why not go for a whole month? How hard could it be to choose to be happy every day for a month?

It’s hard. Let me tell you.

Because one can choose to be happy but that doesn’t mean you will necessarily feel happy.
I can say to myself every morning, “All right! Today I choose to be happy!” But if I don’t feel it, genuinely, what good is that choice, really? And this is the rub. That “feeling” aspect.

How Do You Stay Happy When...

I think someone stole my blog.

It's not there anymore. I can't access it. It literally seems to have disappeared. Granted, it was a blog I hadn't touched in more than 6 months. And I was planning on shutting it down anyway. But having it disappear is eerie. And upsetting.

My crazy mind starts churning. Did someone steal it? I mean, there was tons of great content on that blog. It was my Unconditional Confidence blog where I offered tons of free information on how to speak or perform with confidence and ease. I mean, it was slightly worth stealing, but...

...here's the deal! Am I still happy? This is my third day of my Happiness Project in which I am choosing to BE happy for the entire month of July in honor of International Happiness Day. And so far, so good. I've had a great and happy day today... until I tried to find my blog. My missing blog.

Can I, even when faced with something scary, something unpleasant, BE HAPPY?

Yes. When I consciously choose to be so. I can still access the energy of happiness because it is still in me, part of who I am. At the essence of who I am.

But would I STILL have access to this internal happiness IF I had lost a blog I really cared about? One that meant more to me or one that was more critical to my business? I'm not sure. I think the only way I could be happy under those circumstances is to have a huge fit first. Then a big glass of wine. Then, yes, I could access a little happiness.

Choosing Happiness

July 10 is International Happiness Day, a day we celebrate by choosing to be happy and doing  what we can to inspire happiness in others.

But after my 3-week experience with a Pancha Karma cleanse (I’ll post about that later) I’ve decided to make July my personal happiness month. I want to dedicate this entire month to choosing happiness, to exploring ideas, projects and little acts of fun, lightness and imagination that awaken happiness.

See, I’ve been noticing how much leeway I actually have when it comes to being happy. I mean, really happy. It’s so close most of the time. In the foggy morning as I sip my Harney black tea. When I snuggle my nose into the sweet-smelling fur of my adorable cat. Or having a day like today when I get to be with some pretty great people.

And while I have many reasons to be happy, my intent is to go beyond the reasons and into the essence of happiness itself, which, I believe, is always bubbling inside of each of us. We are happiness, joy, creative bliss, and love at our core. When we strip away the thoughts of “no” “can’t have” “not for me” “it’s hard” “I don’t wanna,” and the like, there is just the hum of Being. Of life. Of Yes. Of peace and happiness.

So, I dedicate this month to diving into happiness, within and without. To noticing both my reasons to be happy and to be happy for no reason at all.

Let’s see how it goes.

Hillary & Me: When You Let Go of The Goal

Hillary didn't make it. She gave it everything she had, and still, she had to concede.

When she gave her concession speech on Saturday, I could feel her sadness, her disappointment. Or what I imagined she must be feeling. Because who hasn't known the sadness that comes when you fall  short of your goal. The deep disappointment you feel when you've given everything to your goal —  your energy  passion, love, time, not to mention all that money  — and you come to the day where you have to stand up and say, “You know, I didn’t make it.” You didn’t make it, and someone else has your prize. 

As a singer, I fear that day when I might have to admit that I’ve fallen short of my goal. That I didn’t reach my ideal. That, yes, I gave it everything I had, my time, energy, heart and soul, and lots and lots of money, only to fail and be made to say, “You know, I did my best, but I didn’t make it.” 

I’m not talking about the little disappointments and failures along the way. Every path towards a goal comes with its ups and down and rocky patches. Hillary loses a state. Gets caught in a lie. Gets bad press. And as a singer, life is full of these bumps and challenges. Those gigs when you didn’t sing as well as you wanted. Or the audience turnout is measly. Or you didn’t even cover your costs.

But the sorrow I feel for Hillary is not in these little defeats, but in reaching the final disappointment where the ultimate goal is lost. Hey, Hillary won almost every debate she had with Barack. But in the end, she had to concede the final victory. And the weight of that failure is what I feel. And fear.

At times, this fear of failing can feel so heavy that it makes me want to quit now. Before I give any more of my heart and energy. Before I invest even more money and time into becoming the singer I long to be. But like Hillary, I won’t throw in the towel until the writing is on the wall. Until I know it’s time.

My friend Lua, who is also a singer full of longing, asked me what IS my goal? What is this ideal of which I’m afraid of falling short? I explained to her that it’s not a career goal. It’s not about becoming famous or financially successful as a singer. It’s a two-part goal. 

One part is technical: I want to achieve a level of vocal freedom and authenticity that I sense is possible for me. The other part is a performance goal: I want to know that I can perform with such a deep state of connection to All That I Am while also feeling connected with my audience. And to experience these two goals together, where I am vocally free, real, and expansive, grounded and centered in my voice, while also being exquisitely present and available to my audience. 

Perhaps I’m not describing this in a way that makes it easy to understand. It’s an ideal in my mind of how I want to experience singing and performing. It’s an internal goal, one that only I will recognize when I’ve reached it.

Can We Hear Ourselves When We Sing?

There’s an unwritten rule amongst singers. Actually, there are several. But one of them is this: when asked for constructive criticism by one of your peers, you can never criticize their voice to their face.

The other night I went to hear a friend of mine sing with her new band at a little hot spot up here in Sonoma County. I hadn't heard this friend perform for a while so I was really looking forward to it. She's got good taste when it comes to picking tunes and arrangements, and she has a great stage presence. But sometimes, her voice... well, it isn't the easiest voice to listen to. There is a quality, actually several qualities, in her sound that are off-putting, disjointed and slightly irritating.

When I listen to her I often get so caught up in wanting her voice to be different that my mind moves away from the music and starts figuring out how I would help her if allowed to. I mean, she has a good voice; it's what she does with it that drives me a little nuts ONLY because it distracts me from the song she is singing.

So, when I went to hear this friend the other night (let’s call her Betty, shall we?), the same thing happened. Instead of falling into the music and enjoying it, I couldn’t stop being distracted by Betty’s voice. I kept trying to figure out how to smooth out her breaks, bring the warmth of her lower register into her mid and upper registers, how to un-classicalize (okay, that's not a word) her sound.

Now, some of this may be due to the fact that for the past 9 years I’ve been working on my own sound by trying to remove the remnants of my own classical training and straighten out my tone. Which has made me a little obsessed about technique and registers and such. So, perhaps, I’m just super-sensitive to this whole issue of vocal sound.

But this is my fear. What if, like my friend Betty, I’m making certain sounds or doing something with my voice that is irritating, off-putting and distracting to the music... and no one has the guts to tell me. What if I can’t hear my voice objectively? What if I’m doing something strange or ugly and I can’t hear it? But everyone else can!

I suppose that’s what vocal coaches are for: to tell you when you’re off, when you’re doing something “wrong” or weird. But like many singers, I’ve been so messed with by psychotic voice teachers that it’s hard to know who you can trust.

But I do trust my singer friends. They’ve all got great ears, taste and musicality. But here’s the rub. Singers don’t tell other singers when they suck. Oh, they’ll tell other people when you suck, but they won’t tell you. Not unless you ask them. It’s an unwritten rule. And even when asked for an opinion about a show, CD or song we’ve done, the “voice” is off-limits. We can give constructive criticism about song choice, patter, creative decisions, staging, and other musical or creative decisions. But you don’t touch the subject of one’s voice… UNLESS you have nothing but fabulous things to say.

As I left Betty’s show, I thought about all of this. And there is a part of me that wants to tell her what I hear in her voice. Not to hurt her but to explore the subject with her. To understand what she hears AND what she likes and if she’s even interested in creating some changes. Would I want someone to do the same for me?

Yes, and no. I would need to be ready. I would need to have asked for that specific opinion.

I’m almost ready.