Most of us think of big dreams as things we’ve said we want to be, do or have. But sometimes big dreams are the things you\u2019re too scared to even admit out loud, that seem so impossible you\u2019ve never written them down or put them on a vision board. If so, that deep inner longing could be the very thing you’re here to do. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
For me, it was music. I started taking piano lessons at age 5. I had no natural ear, no innate ability that anyone could see. My grandmother was a child prodigy, learning to play chords by ear at 3-4 years old. She went on to play in a silent movie house. My brother also inherited her natural ear for music. I had nothing. I could only parrot what was written on the page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When my Granny came over to our house and played the piano, I would sit mesmerized at how she could play the old ragtime songs with a styling I\u2019ve never heard anyone else duplicate. I\u2019d think to myself, \u201cI\u2019d love to play like Granny. I wish I didn\u2019t need sheet music to play.\u201d Granny seemed to play from deep inside herself – something uniquely “Granny.” I wanted to play something that was uniquely me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I knew it was impossible. I just didn\u2019t have the ear for it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I grew up in a house filled with music. I loved going to live concerts and envied the soloists on stage. What would it be like to be good enough to sing in front of other people? To sing a solo and not feel mortified at the results?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These were inner longings, but my rational mind immediately told me \u201cYou\u2019re not a singer. You have no natural music ability. You have no ear for music, no perfect pitch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My thoughts went no further. No goal got written down. No ambition emerged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just that quiet, inner longing that remained with me throughout my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the age of 50, my mother passed away while I was going through a divorce. I lived with my dad after the funeral. A few days after my mother died, my dad and I looked at each other and said, \u201cWe need to get into music.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My cousin Jody is a songwriter and former Elvis Tribute Artist. He has a little music studio in his home, and he invited us to do music with him. He\u2019d play the guitar and my dad played his harmonica. Jody had me sing. I didn\u2019t even know how to sing with accompaniment that didn\u2019t include the melody. I\u2019d been singing in church for years and loved to sing at the top of my lungs in the car. But I didn\u2019t know about chords or how they worked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That first day at Jody’s, I sang “Shenandoah.” Jody seemed to like the progress I made. On the way home, my dad looked at me and with a level of incredulity in his voice said, \u201cI didn\u2019t know you could sing! Where did you learn to sing like that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n