A man walked down my street singing today. That act in itself wasn’t so unusual, but it was the way he did it that attracted so much attention in my quiet neighborhood. It wasn’t a careless hum, or a jogger’s off-key rendition of a tune that only he and his iPod could hear. This man walked at a relaxed, even pace and sang loudly, and very well. So much so that people (like me) came out of their houses to see who it was. Even the group of young men across the street interrupted their horseplay to stop and listen – and then they applauded! The singing man continued on with a smile and friendly wave to all who acknowledged him.
As I watched him pass, a phrase popped into my head – “living out loud”; another one of those maxims that sounds empowering when I hear it, but somehow isn’t as easily applied to my actual life. What does it really mean, anyway? And why are we so hesitant to do it? When did we discover the fear in acknowledging our gifts and sharing them freely and joyfully? Was it when other voices became louder than our own?
Singing showed up for me more than once this week. I spent an afternoon on the set of “American Idol”. Love or hate the reality TV premise, there is something so exhilarating about watching talent expressing in such a big way. And then as I was pondering the emotional dynamics of performing, I remembered Mr Tanner. He was the creation of the gifted, story-telling troubador of the 70’s, Harry Chapin. Mr Tanner was a dry cleaner with a wonderful voice, who sang as he worked. His customers finally convinced him to do a concert, but the harsh words of a critic kept him from sharing his voice again. It’s an achingly poignant song, set against the beautiful counterpoint of “O Holy Night”. The words of the refrain touch something deep in me every time I hear them.
“Music was his life, it was not his livelihood.
And it made him feel so happy, it made him feel so good.
And he sang from his heart, and he sang from his soul.
He did not know how well he sang, it just made him whole”.
Click the link below to see a live performance of “Mr. Tanner”. It will be 5 minutes well-spent.
What is that thing that “makes you whole”? Have you made a space in your life for it? Why do we wait for others to tell us whether our passion has value? There will always be cheerleaders and naysayers (the latter most likely those whose gifts remain unexpressed), but the only voice that matters is our own. Why should it not be heard above the rest? I challenge myself now to stay relentlessly in search of wholeness. And thank you Mr. Tanner for reminding me.
Possibilities 