I've never been that great at "stepping out of the proverbial box." No thank you, new boxes. I like the spaces, activities and schedule that I have created, and I like the people that are incorporated into my world. So it should have come as no surprise when my best friend, Lisa, told me recently that it also takes me a while to warm up to new people. But surprised I was.
This can't be true. I thought I LIKED meeting people.
"You do like meeting them," she assured me. "But it takes you a while to see if you're going to let them in."
Really? REALLY? So then I asked her how long it took me to decide. I assumed that A) she wouldn't know or B) it would be a few weeks to a month.
Seven years, on average.
Apparently, I'm a mean dog in a lonely, box-shaped crate. Like, the meanest. No new people. No new boxes. Go away. Get out. See you in seven years.
Those who know me well will hopefully attest that this is a bit of an exaggeration. I'm not the meanest dog, but maybe it is okay to step back and consider who and what we let in. At the same time, we don't want to let great things pass us by.
The past couple of months, I've been seeing notices at church recruiting singers for Faure's Requiem. Dates and times for vocal interviews. Come and sing! Everyone in the community invited. I saw the same notice in the Hudson Hub. I love singing big pieces of music. Well, I love singing any piece of music, but the idea of this was really calling to me. I haven't sung in a long, long time, but I kept thinking. . . if I don't audition, and I'm in the congregation watching, what will I thinking as I enjoy the music? What experience might I have allowed to pass me by?
Rehearsals are on Monday nights, a night in my week that is absolutely free. So I scheduled my interview, sang for Tom, received my score, and went to my first rehearsal. Out of my box. Although singing is something that feels natural, I've not sung in this setting, with this director, with these people. There were a few familiar faces, but far fewer than I expected. So. . . deep breath. New box. New people. Surface introductions. Sang the first movement. Night one, big success.
At the second rehearsal, I was sitting next to Tracy again, in the Alto section. (Note: it is also waaaaaay out of my box to sing Alto.) She sat down and opened her binder. Binder! I was there with my score and pencil, now feeling underprepared.
"I'm doing that next week," I said, coveting.
"Well," Tracy said. "I sing in three choirs. I just love to sing! So I have to do this." In her binder, she also had a pencil case with a mass of sharp pencils, a pencil sharpener, and all the handouts from Tom. I was overcome with jealousy. I have missed years of this.
Tracy went on to tell me that she sang in the Laurel Lake Choir, and also the Hudson Community Choir. I shared that I had sung in the Community Choir many years ago. She asked where I had grown up (Cincinnati) and she told me she was from Lima, OH. And there it was-- The Connection. Lima is a town very near Indian Lake, OH, where my grandparents are from, and where I spent (and spend) many of my summer days. It's where my parents met and still have my grandparent's home. It's where my dad was a lifeguard and where I learned to waterski. It's where I fell in love with the day lilies that I transplanted to my own yard. Tracy told me she danced at the same ballroom where my grandfather's band played. She knew the amusement park. We both knew Hinkle's donut shop.
After practice, we walked and talked toward the exit. We took the elevator down and chatted some more. Tracy would drive home, one town over. In the elevator, she had asked if I attended church at First Congregational. I had said "Yes, since 1998." I believe Tracy was far more out of her box than I, and yet she seemed infinitely more comfortable.
Now, I have my binder ready. I have made at least one new friend. I've learned two movements of the Requiem. The words are so familiar but the tune is not, and I have but six weeks, not seven years, to warm up to the song. I'm already loving the experience, though, so I'm not really worried.
Make a friend. Sing a song. Walk and talk. Open your heart and take a tiny step out of your box. Even if it's back into a place you've been before.
