Singing in the background
I had a call out of the blue two days ago. A US publicity company wanting to sell their extortionate services to me as a self published author.
Don’t you want to get your message out to a wider audience? The robot-like calls rep wanted to know.
It’s a no brainier surely? Or at least it was for her. Cos as an author you want your voice to be heard everywhere, right?
My soul sister challenged me on this too when I launched Moon Time. She didn’t get my reticence, my lack of confidence to share my creative baby. My level of self doubt.
It’s still there. I am so happy with each woman who discovers my work and loves it. So happy to share my work woman to woman. But reaching out into the big wide world beyond, the mainstream, full of critics, nay sayers, cynics, people whose job it is to knock people down and ridicule then. No thank you!
So on the back of my sharing this call on Facebook I was contacted by a woman who does media training for women. And I really like the look of what she does. But still the assumption that I would want to put myself out there to everyone was there. And the response in me was still no.
I feel like a newborn meerkat. All pink and hairless. Blind and weak. And the world feels full of hyenas that eat things like me for breakfast.
I love doing what I do. But it scares the hell out me. It’s very niche. And its powerful. And it’s finding its audience. But it takes every ounce of my courage to do it. I am so far out of my comfort zone it aches. But it’s flowing. And it’s healing me, and my friends and women I’ve never met. So I trust. And I carry on, deeper and deeper into my work, sharing it woman to woman. No big media shows here.
And then last night I had a powerful dream.
I was asked to help at a friend’s wedding, and of course volunteered. Then she said what she’d really like was me to sing. I said fine, even though I get really nervous singing in public. But it was just a small wedding full of friends.
But then, because her mum is pretty famous, all these A List celebrities started turning up, and performing, and I was shitting it. My turn was coming. I was too small, my talents too meagre for a big stage alongside such heroes. But then a small wise voice from somewhere said, “we want you to sing, it’s important to us that you do. You don’t have to be on the big stage, but sing. As the action is happening just sing your words.”
So I started to sing, standing at the back of the room, quietly at first as I found my confidence, then richer and louder. My words were: All is love. I wove my melody. And people turned from the main stage and looked my way. One by one. And I kept on singing. Not centre stage. Not the main event. But a voice which drew people in. And I knew I was playing my part, honouring my promise.
And that’s what I’m doing with my work too.
And I am allowing for the fact that this too might change. That one day I will be on the main stage. But that is not my intention or my overriding aim.
And so I stand, singing at the back of the room, delighted by every head that turns my way, drawn in by my voice.