G+S: Grief and Singing (Something slightly worse than Gilbert and Sullivan...)
When I was at university and studying for my final exams, I had a terrible bout of acid reflux and my singing teacher at the time passed on the following words of wisdom:
‘A happy voice is a healthy voice’.
He was certainly right and as soon as I had submitted my dissertation, my acid reflux cleared up over night and I was happily able to get through my final recital two weeks later. To this day, I refer back to those words of wisdom and pass them down to my own students when they’re trying to find a balance between singing, exams and everyday life.
However, what happens when it’s not as simple as rearranging your time, improving your sleeping habits or cutting down on the amount of hours you work?
Back in January, my Grandad passed away unexpectedly and truthfully, I have been reeling ever since. My initial plan for 2019 was to relaunch myself as a soprano, make as many new contacts as possible and then conquer the world!
So far, the only place that plan has been launched is out of the window.
The month after was particularly difficult. Whilst dealing with my first major bereavement, I had the joy of discovering what it meant to be a freelancer and try and run a business whilst going through emotional turmoil. Dealing with a short school term meant I was unable to re-arrange my teaching to give myself a break. Usually I have a half-term break in February, but each of my schools had a different half-term this year which meant my first break was in April… three months later.
As I mentioned earlier, I had planned to relaunch myself as a soprano and unfortunately two auditions fell in the period between death and funeral. I feel like I gave my absolute best despite the circumstances, but when the rejections came, they felt extremely personal. I think of myself as pretty resilient, but rather than my usual tennis ball, bounce back resilience, it was starting to look a little sadder…. think plasticine… chucked at the wall and it sticks, until gravity takes hold and you drop to the floor…
I think I’m starting to get my ‘bounce’ back… maybe more squash ball than tennis ball at the moment, but definitely an improvement on the plasticine.
I do count myself lucky that my voice is still working and functioning well. I have a number of friends who have been left completely unable to sing after a bereavement and when it is your livelihood, it is frightening when your instrument isn’t working. That said, the one thing that has stopped working for me is my brain.
Sometimes I feel like I don’t recognise my mind anymore. I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I am able to multitask and organise my time wisely and efficiently. Over the past few months, I have been faced with a cruel irony as I have become the person that I never understood. I never understood how some of my friends would permanently lose things and leave things behind.
I am now that friend.
Over the past three months, I feel like I’ve either lost or left every important possession I own. I have lost my debit card. I have left my phone at a school overnight. I have my diary at a students house and again at another school. I left my entire suitcase of music at the reception of one of my schools. I lost my car keys only to find them in the fridge. I lost my audition pack on how to prepare for auditions at a school. I left my handbag in the garden over night.
By no means am I perfect, but usually this would happen over five years of my life, not three months.
I’m starting to approach everything with a sense of humour and I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m also aware that grief is like a landmine, sometimes you can stand on one without realising and it can explode under your feet. I’m noticing how certain things affect my mood and that I need to particularly look after myself if I’m ill or facing rejection.
This week I’m going to treat myself to a little of bit of self-care because I deserve it and if you can relate to any of this, you probably deserve some too.
B x