For any of you who have followed my blog for at least the past year or so, it should come as no surprise for me to admit that I've had plenty of Ryan-Choir relationship challenges. For most of the pandemic, I was soooo wanting to get back to Choir to do what I loved (sing uplifting music that inspires others). But for almost two years, that never happened and my longing was in vain. It was a terribly difficult time. Then, at long last, we started up again near the end of September! But it was not a normal start-up. No, it came with covid protocols a-plenty. Which, at least for me, completely obliterated any joy I once felt singing with the choir and turned my two year longings into frustrated lamenting. It's true that at some point those covid protocols were nullified and the Choir resumed "normal" operations. But I personally never quite recovered from it all. My varying negative emotions felt during those still-in-covid-but-singing-anyway months persisted. Yes, there were moments I was able to break out of those emotions and feel a level of peace and gratitude while fulfilling my musical missionary calling. And I'm grateful for those moments. But most of the choir train ride I was on, and still am on, was on the bottom of the valley floors instead of traversing through scenic and beautiful mountain vistas.
While going through all of this, I've been really trying hard to adjust my attitude, to "reinvent" my excitement, to look at oft-repeated songs with fresh eyes, and to remember all of the people out there who are deeply moved & impacted by the product the Choir produces. I feel, though, like a yo-yo that occasionally moves upwards along the winding string but just doesn't have enough momentum to make it clear to the top (and then ends up at the end of the string...spinning, but not going anywhere). I've become too critical, too discontent, and too infatuated with a hope that the Choir will be propelled on this new and exciting trajectory. A trajectory that really only exists in my head.
How silly of me.
The formula the Choir has prescribed to for the past 90+ years has "worked". And by most measurements (number of streams, number of YouTube views, etc), the formula continues to work. Some could even argue that the slightly modified formula has taken success to a whole new level. And I would agree that the modifications have indeed helped (using the teleprompter so that viewers can look into our eyes more, finally ditching CDs and embracing streaming platforms, involving choir members more in concert narration--to name a few). So why can't I be content and excited with these improvements and finally recapture the joy I once felt? Why can't I be like the new members of the Choir who are all smiles even when they spend ten hours outside of rehearsals to learn music they are unfamiliar with? Or heck, why can't I be like Choir members who have been in Choir as long as I have and STILL dutifully rehearse on their own time during the week, and who come with bright happy attitudes and who love what they do?
It's got to be me. All me. There is no one else to blame.
I think my goal at this point is to see how the rest of this year goes and then perhaps do some serious re-evaluating. Maybe it's time. Maybe it's time to go quietly into the night. I hope not. But if I can't reclaim what's been lost, the Choir organization would have absolutely no problem replacing me with someone who isn't struggling to reclaim anything. Someone who truly loves to be there. Someone who's smile is completely genuine. And someone who will gladly and wholeheartedly work hard to let his musical testimony shine forth into the hearts of those waiting to receive it.
How I long to be that person again.
Until next time, God be with you.
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