For as long as I can remember, music has played a huge role in my life - from learning piano, recorder and guitar in primary school, to playing double bass, flute and then baroque flute through high school, sixth form, and university; and at the heart of everything, I've always been a singer. And as is often the case, my social life has been inextricably built around my music. Whether it's been fun piano duets with a friend, baroque music with a viol- and harpsichord-playing neighbour, or singing in any one of a multitude of choirs, this has been a crucial part of how I've found my place in my community, and formed friendships in each new place. So the past five years of shielding, COVID-caution, and living a very small and controlled life have taken their toll, and I'm only just now realising the huge loss.
Back in the autumn, Mr B and I decided it was time to go back to church in person. We'd been attending online since the start of the pandemic, but having lived in this place for two and a half years, and still only knowing less than half a dozen people here, I needed to find my community. Off we trundled to the parish church, where we were very warmly welcomed. Of course, after a few months of hearing the choir sing anthems that I know and love, I had to sign up. Before I'd even attended my first choir practice, I'd been invited to join the women's pop-up choir too!
And having once attended the monthly less traditional service, and tentatively asked about whether a flautist would ever be wanted for the music group, I was immediately added to the contact list. Three weeks later, I got an email with the details for February, with a request for me to both sing in some items, and flute in others, making me feel very much appreciated and drawn into things!
So what does the title have to do with all this? Well, I've never been more than a year or so without a choir since I was in primary school, and have discovered just how rusty my voice is now. Singing for an hour leaves it actually tired, which has rather taken me aback. I know it'll get better - but I'm realising just how much I've always taken it for granted. And more shockingly, having found out my flute I thought I'd better give it a quick tootle on Friday evening, just for reassurance that I could still play it. Imagine my shock when I discovered that I'd lost my embouchure - the mouth position which has always been second nature since I first picked up my best friend's flute at the age of 9. A couple of short practice sessions over Friday and Saturday definitely helped, and miraculously on Sunday morning it felt much more normal and I had some low notes again as well as the easy higher ones!
If I'm going to be singing and fluting regularly now, I'm definitely going to need to get some practice in. So I'm herewith starting the Musician badge, since the regular practice requirement was the main reason I'd not expected I'd ever get around to it! And with a bit of luck, I might even manage to get my baroque flute going again, having discovered that here too I have a near-ish neighbour who has a harpsichord and will be happy to do some ad-hoc playing sometimes.
All of a sudden, it feels as though I've reclaimed my life. I'm no longer utterly restricted by cancer, by COVID safety (although that's still a concern), by fear. Instead, I'm finding my place in my community, making new friends, and contributing in ways that truly use my skills and abilities. Living life in all its fullness, indeed.
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