Why is it...

... That the longer you go without saying anything, the less you have to say?

I've been thinking a lot lately... not a totally new development, but good anyhow. I've spent my whole life waiting and waiting to do things because I felt I couldn't do them until I had them down pat. Solo tryouts. Auditions for musicals. Performances. Most of the things I could have done are sitting in my mind, in my past; opportunities missed because I thought I 'wasn't ready.' 'Once I'm ready,' I say to myself. 'I'll just wait till tomorrow when I feel ready...'
I never feel ready. It gets to the point where people say 'You're going to miss it,' and still I feel unready. many times, I miss it. It's over, and I feel safe... but not happy. Disappointed. In myself.
That is not a good way to feel.
I would mess up tryouts because I didn't want to go 'too far.' Because I 'wasn't ready'. I ended up looking as stiff and scared as I felt.
Today I decided to bring upon myself a new mindset.
Excitement.
I looked in my mirror yesterday morning and said to myself, 'I have a tryout today. Aren't I excited?'
I expected to feel like I was lying to myself. Go to school with that same dread I always have. Shake so hard during my tryout that I felt like an old lady who'd lost control of her poor wrinkly limbs. Be petrified in my socks. (And the rest of my clothes, for that matter.)
But I made a decision.
I decided to feel the excitement I wanted. When I got to class, I turned to T* and said, "I am so excited." She laughed. We both knew I was scared. But she believed in me and we both knew that, too.
When the choir teacher spoke the words, 'Mother Knows Best,' I expected to feel fear and dread. Instead, I felt a little flutter. Of nervousness. And excitement.
No one volunteered for the first segment. I felt my hand raise and heard myself say, "I haven't practiced this part, but I'll go for it." By the end of the statement I'd brought myself into it; I was no longer hearing myself say it but was saying it.
I sang. The class cheered me on. The teacher had me sing the second segment too, the one I'd actually practiced. The bell rang while I was still singing. The class kept listening.
I didn't finish the second segment. I had to go to class. I got verbal pats on the back all the way. Then, right before I left the room, my beautiful choir teacher called, "Jenica?"
I turned. "Yes?"
She smiled. "Woof," she said.
T turned to me and grinned. Giggled a little.
"Thank you," I said, smiling all over, of course.
When I left the classroom, I was cheering inside.
And someone was in my head, saying, 'I did it. I was excited. I let it go and it went.'
I said a prayer. All I could think of to say was, "Heavenly Father, Thank you."
Thank you.
Thank you...



*T is a dear friend in my choir class. One of the best in the world.