We are beyond fortunate to have an amazing music director in our school district, Erica Denler. From the time she was in middle school, all Bella wanted to do was sing for Ms. Denler. This year, Bella is in two choruses at school, (one of which is an all girls chorus).
As you might imagine, we are serenaded at this house on a regular basis, often in a language other than English. It starts from the first week of learning the song until the concert - MONTHS later. In February, there is a special, showcase performance of Carmina Burana at an outside venue.
Recently, Bella had a friend over. They were practicing the lyrics to Floret Silva, (one of the twelve movements they are performing). I thought it was Bella singing the same lyrics over and over and over and over. I was reading in the living room - they were in the playroom. (Yes, we still call it the playroom.) I believe I whimpered loudly to "STOP already!" Except, it wasn't Bella. It was her friend - oops! Good thing they love me here. Because really, sopranos going on and on and on and well, you get the picture, gets exhausting. Although, I think I stood it for about half an hour, so I deserve some sort of prize, right?
I wake up with a song in my head. I break into song ALL the time - a word can have me off and singing in a second, quite probably a show tune.
Tucker, he sings the song of his people ALL the time!
What about you?
Open your mouth and let your song escape! Sing on-key, off-key, no-key-at-all. Sing when you're happy, when you're sad, when you're vacuuming, and when you're walking. Sing anything you want. Sing the song that wells up in your heart. Sing the directions to your doctors office. Sing your grocery list or the Old Testament or the names of all the women and men you know. Sing your anger - and make it as loud as you are angry! Sing a song of yesterday or of tomorrow. Sing your way into a different mood, or deeper into the one you're already in. Sing your life into existence. Every day, somehow, someway, however you can. Sing!
I celebrate the me yet to come