Performing

Adventure #12

Is there something you have always wanted to do, but haven’t?

What held you back?

For years I wanted to try my hand as a solo performer. I can name at least 1,000 excuses as to why I had never played out- being too busy, not being good enough, not being given the opportunity, and on and on. What every single excuse comes down to is fear. Fear of judgement, criticism and failure.

Finally, I decide to push past this. One afternoon while out with my partner, I make the claim that I will start performing in public, despite having any actual gigs to speak of.

On the way home, after making this bold declaration, I stop in at the local Kava Kafe for some delicious Awa and take in some live music. Sitting at the bar, I begin talking to a lovely, down to earth woman, who turns out to be the owner. As we talk I ask who will be playing in the following weeks. She says that nothing is booked yet, and casually asks “Do you know any musicians?”

I hesitate, my instinct is to mutter “no” and shuffle away, but I know that would be untrue. Instead, I meekly say that I play music. She generously offers me the chance to play the following week, 5-8 pm. I feel the universe is aligning in this moment, it seems too good to be true.

I tune into the adventure mindset; thinking of this as an exciting opportunity that brings my dreams and realities closer together, completely changes the experience from fear based to excitement driven. Most of my life I have been a performer in different settings, but it has always come with bouts of anxiety. Today is different.

I feel well practiced, and cultivate compassion for myself. Confident that in the least, if I do fall flat on my face, I will get back up. If I do mess up songs, I will continue on without picking up the proverbial bat and beating myself up over it.

On the night of the gig, I arrive early to set up on the back deck overlooking the main street of Hawi. This is a quaint and colorful little town that is quiet and calm. Locals begin to come in and greet me with a smile. The start is smooth and easy. Everything is falling into place. The bartender serves me a drink of Awa in a coconut shell, complete with a rim dipped in honey and coconut.

To my great relief, friends come to see my set. They are attentive and supportive as they sing and share Aloha.. The entire crowd belts out the words to classics like “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes, and “I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Is Gone”. This fills my heart, quiets my fears, and inspires my performance.

Though playing outside, I even hear applause from inside, reminding me that it is still being heard and appreciated.

Mistakes are made, but I keep playing anyway, including original music. Playing these songs is like playing a piece of my heart. It touches on past and present relationships. It shares intimate parts of me, and connects with others who are listening.

Days later, I am reflecting on the experience, feeling a mix of emotions. Grateful that I took a leap into something new and challenging, tortured by some of my foolish mistakes, and embarrassed that despite my best efforts- nerves still got the best of me.

Ready to try again, I go back to one of my biggest mistakes. Totally blotching the words and chords to “Soulshine”. I record it in on my phone in the days following the show and share it on Facebook. It is a practice in getting back up after falling down. I am already moving forward. This is where growth and strength is cultivated.

This is not the only adventure in solo performing, but the first. As I continue to gain experience, I am evermore stretching my abilities and comfort zones.