In the past 40 years, I’ve only ever sang
once in public and that was to audience of one.
When I was seven, Mrs Lehman announced to the
whole class that “I have been teaching for almost 40 years, and John Lewis has
the worst singing voice that I’ve ever heard”.
She suggested to me that it would be better if I mimed whilst the rest
of the class sang. We Plough the Fields
and Scatter.
And I did as she suggested.
Furthermore, I’ve carried on through life often
mouthing the words but not singing with the choir, sitting on the fence and not expressing how I feel.
I recall having dinner with a woman who sang a
beautiful sweet-sounding version of Amazing
Grace especially for me. When she
asked me sing back to her I could feel my mouth going dry, me stomach
tightening and feel my heart rate increase.
This lead to feelings of frustration and anger and Monica acknowledged
this and tried to reassure me.
“The birds in the forest all have different
singing voices and it would be a dull place if they all sounded the same”
I cannot blame insensitive comments of an
elderly primary school teacher for my anxiety disorder.
The only time I ever sang was on the Camino
de Santiago. It was a very wet Saturday
morning and I was just outside Melide with Pilar Fernandez Alonso. We were
discussing favourite scenes from films.
She described a scene she loved where a man is at a typewriter and a
woman is sat on the fire escape outside the window with a guitar and she sings.
“But
I can’t remember the song”
I stopped, turned, looked her in the eye and
sang
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7SI7N22k_A
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