What an interesting performance we had last night – the sort of thing I might write into a sardonic movie script:  We played in a room charmingly decorated, but fluorescent-lit and linoleum-floored with lots of hard surfaces for bouncing around all the conversations happening.  Lots of good folks were there, and we enjoyed a number of good conversations.  The fundraiser’s silent auction had great items donated from local stores and galleries, and I even won a few bids.

But as performers – and we anticipated this ahead of time – it was really difficult to sing in a conversation-noisy, fluorescent-lit, linoleum-tiled room!

To make it more difficult, I haven’t been singing much since last spring, as I’ve been going through all these healing events – and I’d also announced to the world that “I Quit!” (everything) a few months back.  And I did quit singing – even practicing – for six weeks while I did other things and truly enjoyed my time “away.”

Of course, eventually, Greg seduced me back, and I discovered that old bad-singing habits had been lost (yeah!), my voice had relaxed, I liked it much better, and I decided to be – not necessarily a performer, but – an occasional performer of a song or two or maybe even a set now and then.  Next thing we knew, a friend had accepted this gig but didn’t want to do the whole three hours, and asked us to help him fill the time.

Despite it being one of the worst settings, the humbleness of it was actually attractive to me as a venue for getting back into performance.  Besides, the group was “good people,” and it was a good cause – SNAP – the “Spay and Neuter Awareness Project – the kicker aspect making it perfect for my one-day, sardonic script.

But that was just the setting.

What I experienced last night didn’t feel like stage jitters.  It might have been the fluorescent lights experienced for too long (never a problem for me in the past), but it felt like being electronically messed with – maybe for the first time immediately before I stepped into our performance space.

Fine arrows of negative-feeling energy seemed to pierce inside my body from outside like 12”-long thin needles (not nervousness emerging naturally from inside – a sensation I am very familiar with) – but, to my credit, I didn’t panic.

I thought:  I’ve always known electronic harassment while I sing was a possibility, and here it is (maybe, if this is what it is).  So what do I do?  Decide not to sing?  Never sing again?  Or take this as a challenge and see if I can develop some spiritual skills to combat it?  Right here.  Now.  Okay.

I took my time getting on stage, stretching and relaxing my body, even as Greg encouraged me to join him on stage then.  As I concentrated on relaxing my body and strengthening my protective energy shield, I realized:  I need a checklist before I go onstage – and even before I walk into certain environments!  Especially like this.

Then I realized:  Oh yeah:  I have a checklist!  (water, stretch, visualize, etc.)  But like many things, it’s lost in some notebook, forgotten.

“Forgotten” – the bane of my life!

Yeah, while most people (or so I think – maybe it’s a minority) have the good fortune of just deciding to improve something and then doing it, some of us have greater challenges – or maybe they’re opportunities!  Opportunities to strengthen ourselves beyond what we believe is possible – not by choice, but because we have too.

So, even though, over and over again, I’ve found work-arounds to my latest challenge, I keep finding new hurdles, for which I often despair and am ready to quit.  But I’m beginning to realize that what this all amounts to is spiritual warfare training.  And I accept it.

That’s exactly what it felt like last night:  While I worked to relax my body inside my aura, pay attention to my partner’s music, remember not just lyrics but the stories we’re telling, and coax the newly discovered energy patterns that I discovered after my break and more discovered in the heart-healing event a week ago – while doing all that – worked to keep control of my body despite these apparently external arrows.

So much to manage!  And I did it.

Others said our music was “great” and “lovely,” Greg was very positive about the quality of my singing, and I thought my most recent improvements – singing with heart energy – was sustained 80-90% of the time, with only 1% “barks” – where the tension in me was too great to control my voice – but I was aware enough to keep a distance from the mike at those times.  So, I guess – unless anyone wants to fill me in on things I’m not aware of (we didn’t get a recording) – I succeeded!

Sometimes I think, with my difficulties in remembering and even perceiving, I’ve been very fortunate or maybe rescued repeatedly by the hand of God, like an innocent child walking in traffic – or maybe Mr. Magoo.  But here I am!  If it’s angels keeping me alive and kicking, I accept.

But I’m also adding all I can.  And I’m jazzed by the strength I discovered – repeatedly last night – to overcome the literal (it seemed to me) arrows of something invading my space.  I found that when I determined to do it, I could allow good energy to flow through that heart space, join with my voice, and a new beautiful sound flowed through.

May we all keep on keeping on!  Our biggest trials may be our biggest opportunities to heal – and, if we’re lucky, create beauty while we’re at it!