Why You Should Sing Badly

“Oh no, I don’t sing.”

I hear this so often. Along with the matching comment, “I don’t dance.”

Personally, I know I don’t sound like Celine Dion and I may never be Dancing with the Stars, but marching to my own drummer has been a life-long resolution of mine; even if, as Nietzsche said, others can’t hear the music. Life isn’t a party, it’s a flipping parade. We share our stage with so many other bright stars, and because of that, we tend to lose sight of our own spectacular selves. We lose the fun-loving freedom of our youth. Growing up, for so many, equates to giving up.

I don’t quiet down in a car full of strangers. I belt loud and proud, smile stamped firmly on my face. And generally, that kind of attitude is contagious. Before you know it, a whole room has joined in. Freedom to be ourselves is supposedly apparent in our current society. To a degree, at least; until it becomes too uncomfortable for others to bear. It’s so odd to me that as we grow older, we are required to “mature”. Not just mentally or emotionally, either; but in a repressed kind of way. As if aging is a reason to become reserved and surrender all spontaneity.

I burst into laughter wherever I go. I try not to dampen my personality just for the sake of others. And yes, sometimes I get a dirty look or three for deigning to be happy in public. Ridiculous! 

The short time I’ve been in this world, the one thing I’ve observed universally is people trying to control each other. I’ve been hurried along and told to slow down–instructed to seize opportunities of my youth and commanded to wait. Whatever decisions I’m making always seem (in the eyes of one person or another) to be the wrong ones. And at 25, I’m done taking orders. Please leave all life advice with my secretary. I’m no longer available to take calls.

Get silly, before you forget how! Pack a bag and go on a freaking vacation. Buy something outlandish, just to let yourself have it. Storm through each day like there’s theme music playing just for you–and never let anyone take away your will to let go and have fun. If you’re not out there taking risks, what’s the point anyways? Don’t. Hold. Back. If I could give myself one gift to claim at the end of it all, it would be the memories I’d went out of my way to make, despite everyone who told me I’d regret them. Those things you worry you can’t or shouldn’t do… they’re the ones you’ll always be grateful you did.

Advertisements