I've been lost before. I've definitely been lost in the physical sense. Where do I turn? Did I pass the building I was looking for? Should I check Google maps? You know, that kind of lost. It normally happens when I'm driving with my mother. Correction: it normally happens when my mother is driving.
Last night, though, I was lost in a sea of song.
A week ago I hopped on my bike and headed to Liverpool's Zion United Church for a choir audition. The Queens County Community Choir accepts everyone, so audition is a loose term. Really the audition is to put people in their places - bass, tenor, alto, soprano, etc. I stood by the piano and, in a fit of nerves, barely sang a thing. My voice was stuck on pause or mute. But I must have sung something because the choir director told me to join the soprano group.
Then last night arrived. I ate dinner, had a shower, brushed my teeth and hopped on my bike again. When I got to the church, I walked tentatively up the stairs and stood behind the back row of chairs.
"Do you know where you're supposed to sit?" asked a woman.
"No," I replied shyly.
"You're soprano?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
So she suggested I sit somewhere I could see the director.
Fewf, I thought. I know where to sit now. This map isn't so hard to follow!
And then began the warm up. The director played scales as we warmed our voices. After warm up, we dived right into a song. The path I'd seen clearly a moment earlier was suddenly blocked. I moved my mouth as realistically as possible. Occasionally the tiniest sound would escape. My voice was on pause again. As the practice went on, I began to relax a little and take this lost time to observe and listen.
At the end of practice someone approached me. "You're coming back next week, right?"
I nodded.
"If you were lost, you'll won't be as lost in a few weeks," she added.
I hopped back on my bike and rode the two blocks home in the dark. I knew exactly where I was going. Next week, I will go back because, lost or not, I won't give up that easily.
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