Singing

Years ago, my grandfather heard me singing and said with a smile, "You must be happy."  It had never occurred to me until then that singing was associated with happiness and it was a bit incongruous for me to think of it in that way.  I think I must have disappointed him slightly when I denied that I was happy.  I was just singing. 

There have been long, years long, periods of my life where singing wasn't part of what I did.  It wasn't that I was unhappy and abandoned singing because of that.  I just didn't think so much about it.  And even now, I have a rather strange relationship to it.  I sing, I write music, I hum in the car, but it isn't so much tied to an emotion, as it is just part of what I do. 

I guess I have a rather strange affect.  Other people who are teachers consistently insist that they just LOVE children.  I find children absolutely fascinating, but I can't say, I LOVE them.  I can say that about mountains, though.  I LOVE looking at mountains.  Why the difference?  I don't know.  But it is the same with singing.  I can't say I LOVE singing, but I do it - a lot. 

So now, I am performing music.  Why?  I am not sure.  There is the nervousness and the heady rush of accomplishment, but I don't think that is completely it.  For me, there is also the aspect of wanting to share something tied to the music.  It is a way of expression, I guess.  There is also the personal validation that comes from sharing my own music. 

Music seems to be something I just do - a lot.