I started my education in Catholic parochial schools. They were mostly very good to me. When I was about eleven there was an incident that wasn’t so positive that’s stayed with me.
We had chorus each day. Or, perhaps it was once a week. Those details are murky. At eleven my voice changed and dropped a couple of octaves. Perhaps a little earlier than some, but not unexpected. The solution from the nun running the chorus was to tell me to stop making any noise. Problem solved for the chorus.
To this day, sixty plus years later, I don’t sing. Even in the shower. I’ve taught in front of classes from twenty to two hundred people. I’ve given keynote addresses to a thousand. But don’t ask me to sing. Solo or back of the chorus. It doesn’t matter.
Perhaps oddly, I’ve spent a great deal of time backstage in the theater. That includes stage managing multiple musicals. I had cues tied to verses or key changes or other musical moments. I love music. I just can’t do music.
We all encounter these moments. Some paths close. Others open. There’s a messiness in the day-to-day that’s unavoidable. Fighting it or going with the flow are both poor strategies. Learning to strike a dynamic balance is the game. Can you recognize the notes even if you can’t produce them?