Today I am feeling as though I have risen out of the pit of despair. The sun is shining down on me as I breath in the crisp clean scent of after-rain. I have to be careful of falling back under a black cloud; however, this present moment is all I need to think about right now. Keep pushing forward, do what is in front of me, one step at a time.
Last night, still feeling the hopelessness of where the Universe is leading me, I headed to a new coffee shop in town – Extreme Java Jungle Cafe. The jungle themed coffee deli served pastries, sandwiches, salads, plus an assortment of coffee drinks, beer and wine. I was very proud of myself for eating beforehand, for this cafe that I was visiting with my friends was not designed for the gluten sensitives. They offered almond milk as a dairy replacement, so I did not feel like I was missing out on something. I ordered a cafe steamer as my drink/dessert. Yummy!
Friday nights they have live kareoke, a bar past time venture that I would have, in the past, thought for the socially impaired. But I love to sing, so what is my issue with visualizing a bunch of losers up on stage, cracking their windpipes in hopes to be noticed? Ohhhh, this is my fear of what people think of me chiming in to the picture. I don’t want people thinking that I am one of those “losers” with nothing else better to do than to try to be a professional singer for one night. I took a deep breath, visualizing acceptance of my surroundings.
We found a slippery, leather sofa to sit down on. It was quite comfortable; although, it was not too comfortable sliding into my friend’s husband’s space as he was preparing to eat his sandwich and I to take a drink – a little claustrophobic for me. Another reason to take in a deep breath.
It wasn’t long before I was okay with where I was at. I began thumbing through the list of songs to choose from (Yeah, deep down I wanted to sing something). My friend’s husband went up to the mic right away and boasted out an Eagle’s song. It was awesome! We were all proud of him 🙂
He came back to our spot and assisted me in selecting a song of choice and encouraged me to go up. I really wanted to sing; however, it still took some coaching and prodding on his behalf to get me up there. Eventually, my turn came and I was hitting, or missing, some high notes. I began moving my legs. My hands were shaking and my voice quivering, but my legs would not stop moving. I visualized my three other friends commenting on dance lessons needed. To get a better picture, I am that guy on the Footloose movie that had to be taught how to dance. My legs go up and down, but not necessarily to what beat is being played.
Arriving back at our sofa, my bright eyed, loving friends all raved about my challenging performance. We picked out a song for all four of us and waited for our chance to satisfy an urge to be the next American Idol. Of course! Love Shack will captivate our audience. . .
Four people, two microphones. One person singing to most of the time, one person (me) knowing the chorus real well, one microphone dysfunctional, an inability to stay on track with the lyrics, wishing the song would end soon, plus four people dancing off beat. Love Shack. . . that’s really where it should stay. . . at the Looovvveee Shack!
As we ran back to our seats, a smiling observer commented, “that was interesting. . .” – yeah, I am sure it was! We all laughed as we plopped down at our seats and commented on how notably difficult it actually was and how long it took for us during the song to realize how we should have done it. Surprisingly, we reached for the binder of music. Seriously? Haven’t we had enough?? We poked fun at ourselves for the rest of the evening. We could not stop laughing!
Feeling the best I have felt in months, I returned home. I sat down at the computer, typed in youtube.com, and began my at-home American Idol imitation as I viewed several videos. What will I perform next week at the Java Jungle?
My dogs were coming up to me, wagging their tails with uncertainty. After about four songs, my oldest dog began yelping at me. Each time I began to sing, my dog would actually bark as if to say “I’ve had enough!” I turned to her and laughed out loud as I turned off the computer. Ok, girl, I get it. Again, I laughed and smiled as I hugged my dogs.
Today, I am feeling pretty good. Physically, I am not at my best, but it’s far more livable than what it has been. Emotionally I am feeling revived, alive again.
I guess it is true what they say. . . “Laughter is the Best Medicine”