Guest Blog Post by Sage Cohen
When I was seven years old and away at overnight camp, I tried out for The Sound of Music. I desperately wanted to be cast as the youngest sister, Gretl. I imagined singing “The sun has gone to bed and so must I” in a fancy dress on that wobbly stage in the Poconos to be the culmination of all my earthly desires.
When I was called back for a second audition, I didn’t go.
I had never auditioned for anything before, and I was terrified of failing. But I think I was even more afraid of succeeding.
I thought too little of myself to risk being visible in front of an audience.
It felt safer to stay small.
Then when another girl in my bunk was chosen for the part, I was heartbroken.
I decided on that fateful, Not-Gretl day that I would never again choose fear over desire. I decided that what mattered most was loving what I was doing and giving it my best shot. No matter how bad I might imagine myself to be at it. No matter who accepted or rejected me along the way. In the 40+ years since that time, I have performed in all manner of bands and plays and choruses and musicals. Eventually, I even started speaking, teaching, and lecturing to live (and virtual) audiences.
Through all of this, the terror I faced at age seven never subsided. I always felt unworthy. Several times I lost my voice on opening night of a performance. The first time I publicly read my poems, I thought the fear might literally kill me. And of course, I had plenty of discouraging rejections along the way, too.
But I kept at my creative pursuits because I had my attention on something far more important than fear: My absolute passion for what I was doing.
In my earlier years, I figured eventually I would get less scared. Over time, I did become fairly certain that standing on a stage would not kill me. Then, about 20 years in, I started to notice that
Fear is an incredible energy source.
Turns out, it was a catalyst that made me perform better.
In fact, it was not a problem at all.
That was when fear and I finally made our peace. It was welcome to hang out in the passenger seat while I kept control of the wheel. I understood we were in it for the long haul.
When I hear from students, coaching clients, and readers that they’re feeling scared to try something or discouraged about the results they’re getting, I always encourage them to simply focus on their love of their craft and the delight in their creative practice. No one and nothing in the world can take that from you. And no approval in the world can possibly match the nourishment that you give yourself by showing up at the blank page (or stage, or wherever you love to be) with the willingness to let beauty move through you.
Last night, I auditioned for the Greater Richmond Chorus, a remarkable family of women who sing acapella barbershop music. I wanted to be a part of this chorus as much as I once wanted to be Gretl. And I was just as uncertain that they would have me. But when I stood in that small circle of women, lifting my voice in the four-part harmony that wove us together, I was so overcome by the thrill of our collective sound that I couldn’t stop smiling.
My spine straightened.
My voice rang clear through me.
I was elevated from middle-aged lady nervously auditioning to a resonant string of
the chord of the song itself.
I am thrilled to say I was accepted to join the chorus. The director told me she’s never seen someone more relaxed in an audition. (Little did she know…) I didn’t tell her what I am telling you now: that when you are doing what you love, something shines through you that is bigger and brighter than the low notes of anxiety and fear. Your desire can light up the night sky. And it’s always available to you.
Sage Cohen is the author of Writing the Life Poetic, Fierce on the Page, and three other books. She supports poets and writers at sagecohen.com.