Personal commandments

I've been reading Gretchen Rubin's blog for a while now. She's a smart cookie and frequently talks about things to do in order to foster happiness in daily life. Little things, like eating a piece of fruit or making your bed, hugging someone you love, being friendly and gracious. She also has this list of twelve personal commandments:

Be Gretchen.

Let it go.

Act the way I want to feel.

Do it now.

Be polite and fair.

Enjoy the process.

Spend out.

Identify the problem.

Lighten up.

Do what ought to be done.

No calculation.

There is only love.

Of the twelve on this list, I think the hardest is the first. Being yourself, being fully inhabited in the person that you are and convicted in your own individuality and opinions, means that you won't always make everyone happy. And my inner golden retriever really wants to make everyone happy, even when it causes me serious turmoil. It's also about loving yourself for your choices (or in spite of your choices) and not trying to mold yourself to fit the hook on which you have hung yourself.

What the heck am I talking about?

A multitude of things. I've been taking advice on my singing, my appearance, my headshots, how I present in auditions, how much makeup I wear, and what exactly I'm doing with my career. All of this affects my mental clarity. Changing my appearance to become more like an opera singer and less like a doctoral student makes sense - especially when I'm no longer a student and definitely an opera singer. But for some reason, I've been discounting my own knowledge of my instrument. I've been trying to beat myself into this repertoire that doesn't really suit my personality, my tastes, and as it happens, my voice. Roles that people have said to me forever "oh, you'd be a stunning *insert name of major heroine here* and I'd just love to hear you sing *insert name of another major heroine here*," so I've picked up these roles and spent hours of practicing time and lesson time and coaching time trying to stretch my voice into those roles. And why? Because I thought someone else knew better. I thought I was being difficult. Or that I simply didn't have the appreciation.

Is any of that true?

NO.

When did I realize all of this?

Yesterday. (yeesh)

In a coaching, as I'm struggling (and I do mean struggling) to get through this aria that's supposed to be "just perfect for my voice" we end up having this whole serious discussion about why I'm looking at this rep and do I really think I'm going in this direction and do I really want to burn that many daylight hours trying to make myself into that kind of singer or am I doing it for someone else's benefit?

I've always been a good girl, or tried really hard to be. I try to do what I'm supposed to do, and when someone tells me to try something, I usually will. (this goes back to the "why I don't eat oysters" story involving my father and some hot sauce) I don't think it makes me gullible or easily led, I think it usually means I'm open to suggestions. BUT I shouldn't discount my own instincts because someone else might have more experience. When my gut says "that ain't right," I need to listen.

So I took them out of my aria book. I put them in my suitcase, and that's where they will stay until I get home and put them in the recycle bin. I am old enough and smart enough to be able to say, "nope that's not right for me." And as long as I own those choices, I will be contributing to my own happiness. Bam.

And with that said, I have to get ready for the George London Competition and, more importantly, the tea and scones that will follow!