Singing My Heart Out

Every Wednesday I get in the car and travel the short hop to rehearse with a group of other like minded women. There, we sing folk tunes, traditional melodies, camp songs, spirituals, and songs from other countries. Songs that seem to suit me. I have been doing this for over 10 years and still feel the thrill of the resonant sound thrumming in my bones. Our voices blend into something unique with every song we sing. Each phrase becomes a caress.

The director is a teacher, a performer, a visionary. We put our trust in her completely. Her choices are ours. Her direction moves us forward to our final goal of communion with each melody. We learn without sheet music. We listen to her deconstruction of each song as she encourages us to commit each phrase to memory. Single notes turn into phrases, verses and then the songs take on a shape. She is the magician working her alchemy.

Of course, there is that moment about 3/4 of the way through each semester when I rebel. All the songs are too fusty or not enough melody or too full of consonants. The room is too hot or too cold. I'm tired. I'm edgy. I just don't want to be there. But then, pulled along by the sheer volume of sound and breath, I am swept away again into the songs. Lullabies, prayers, chants. They soothe my spirit and create a resting place for me in the midst of the avalanche of to-dos that don't.

Each week I see women whose names I still don't know, but their faces are as familiar as those of old friends. At the start of each season, fresh faces appear; women recently moved to Town join us, or the friend of a friend of a friend is brought along to try out this experience known as Women's Chorus. We are grouped into sections according to our voice. Each section has its own personality, changing over time. I allow myself to name them each year. There is the rebel section- the lows - murmurs laced with the rumble of soft laughter. The low middles is the changeable lot. Each semester a few defect up or down. The section swells or shrinks accordingly. I've done this myself. Then, the high middles- the melody makers- and often the largest group, enthusiastic and heart felt. Finally, the highs. Sweet clear notes from that quarter. They always seems to be the first to learn their part!

As the concert approaches, we prepare with longer hours together, finessing each song. We work on the tone and phrasing and focus on those particularly tricky passages which always appear before the final performance. We move into assigned seating, meeting women we have never spoken to before, though we have shared this very moving experience together for several weeks. The energy changes from tired to excited and we all look forward to finishing.

This year was no different from any other in all of these ways, yet it was unique in its own way too. The audience was lovely. The musicians were sublime! What we do best is sing from the heart. And when music moves us in our hearts, all is right in the world. Enfolded- held- by the voices joined as one, I am lifted up.