by Connie Brisson

I don’t sing.

I rarely listen to music, I don’t have many CD’s and I thought all that was perfectly okay, until last weekend when I sang a song that changed me…

When I was young I was part of a 4H Sewing Club. At the end of each year, we put on a performance of skits and songs. During one rehearsal, a 4H leader said one of us was ruining the song. Although there were about 40 of us there, she singled out three of us in one corner and told us to sing solo. I was one of them. After I sang, she told me not to sing anymore and to only ‘mouth the words’ from then on.

I was such a vulnerable kid that her comment easily shamed me. I looked at everyone looking at me and I remember thinking that I didn’t want to ever let anyone hear me sing again. And I kept my word to myself for a long, long time. I did sing sometimes but mostly when I was alone and to very loud music.

Then, over 25 years later, when Gabrielle was three days old, Marcel bought her the movie Dumbo. I had never seen Dumbo before and I cried when I watched the love that mother elephant had for her baby. She sang a song to her baby that was so sweet and meaningful to me, that I rewound the movie a thousand times until I wrote down all the words. Then I began to sing it to my little Gabi every day.

With Gabi, I decided that I would break my rule of never singing without loud music to hide behind. I wanted her to hear my love for her and I wanted her to never be ashamed of her voice. When she was two, she loved Scooby Doo. So I sat there, every episode, writing down the words to the theme song. Then we would sing it together. I knew I couldn’t sing but I thought that it didn’t matter how I sounded because I was singing FOR HER.

Last weekend I went to a workshop called ‘The Mastery of Self Expression.’ We were asked to perform a ‘monologue’ about something meaningful to us, where we gave 100% of ourselves. I had to decide whether I wanted to just get through this experience or if I wanted to do it with all my heart.

An old song came to my mind and it instantly brought tears to my eyes. I had found my monologue. I went on stage, took a deep breath and then belted out one verse of that song that means so much to me…

Whispering pines, whispering pines,
Tell me, is it so?
Whispering pines, whispering pines,
You’re the one who knows,
My darling’s gone, oh, he’s gone,
And I need your sympathy,
Whispering pines, bring my baby back to me.

I croaked at one point and cried through much of it but I sang it from the very depths of my heart and soul.

This was my song for my brother Gene. He and I use to sing it at parties when we were younger and when death was something that was just so far away. And now I sang it FOR HIM.

It has been eight year since Gene is gone and I still miss him so much. And it was only my deep love for him that could make me go up on that stage and sing solo in front of so many people. My love for him was greater than my shame over my imperfect voice.

And you know what happened when it was over? I wasn’t ashamed of my voice anymore. I was SO pleased with myself. Something changed in me when I sang that song for him in front of all of those people. I came face to face with my insecurity and I reconciled within myself that it was more important for me to be real and express my love/feelings than it was for me to be perfect and acceptable. And it was so liberating! I felt like a huge burden had been lifted from me.

The other thing I noticed is that my voice sounded different afterwards. It seemed to be richer and have more resonance, especially when I laughed.

A day after this workshop, I went for a walk down our walking trail in Morinville. I was remembering the power of that moment when I sang Whispering Pines to Gene, and I wondered if he heard me. Then, I looked down and I saw a beautiful raven’s feather. I picked it up and cried. I’ve been walking down this trail for almost a year now and I’ve NEVER seen one feather. For me, feathers are a sign from the spirit world. It is a sign that they’ve heard what I just said/thought and that this moment is a very significant one.

Sing your own song, your own way. Be true to yourself. The Universe is listening.

Connie