Singin' and slingin'.

It’s 3:45 a.m. and I am wide awake.  I have been for a couple of hours now.  I think I’m still coming down from the excitement of this past weekend.  Four days in Merritt with friends, singing on stage numerous times, and slinging beer into the wee hours at the second annual Great Canadian Bike Rally. It was a blast and I was truly in my element.

With the temperature hovering in the mid ’30s  for much of the time, we were sweltering as we hopped back and forth between two stages to perform for the bikers who had come from far and wide to admire each other’s motorcycles and swap tales from the road.

Amidst all the constant rumbling and throbbing of the machines, and the volume 11 music for the better part of each day, a quiet realization dawned on me. It happened in mid-song on the main stage as I caught, out of the corner of my eye, a glimpse of the giant screen and my face was being beamed out in Technicolor.  Now while I’m considered to be quite the extrovert, this was extremely disconcerting to me.  This was being really visible.  Knowing that everyone for at least two blocks could see me.  Never knowing when the camera was on me unless I happened to be glancing sideways. For the rest of the song, I was quite uncomfortable and knew I had to get a grip.  This was going to be the norm every time I got on stage and I wanted to enjoy myself to the max. 

Rather than shrink away from the experience, I decided I was going to blast through my life-long inner fear of being seen this nakedly, and I was going to put my energy to good use – to sing from deep within and not have my fear take centre stage. This big-screen experience helped inspire a much higher level of comfort with visibility without worrying about what people thought.  It was so freeing!  I loved it! It was like getting rid of an old cloak that I didn’t need anymore – especially in that heat!

But what was just as interesting to me was that I caught myself, several times, tuning out for a few seconds in the middle of a song and thinking about stuff other than the performance… I need to eat… I’m thirsty… Oh shit!  What verse are we singing next? Does this skirt make my ass look big? Scary when it happens.  And I realized that this would be noticeable on the big screen.  My disconnection would be visible.  Mmmmmm.  Any correlation with my life in general? It really made me wonder about what happens when I’m not connected.  In this particular instance, it could have been a gong show.  Actually, at any time.  On or off stage.

So rather than coming home from the event exhausted and depleted… I am energized and inspired.  I’ve learned something that can be put to good use.  Love when that happens!

Branded by visible excitement!

Buns xo