In the beginning of October, I joined a choir. For an introvert like me, who is friends with anxiety, this was a challenge. But I did it. After the initial leap, the second hardest thing is follow through. But follow through I did. I show up. I sing. I participate. I listen. I laugh. They’re a fun bunch. Oh, how I enjoys me some fun people.
Anyway, picture it: week five. I’m sitting in my section, the altos, also known as the troublemakers (I swear, they had this moniker before my arrival, though I’m happy to add to the mystique). We get through the first half of rehearsal. The songs are getting better. We’re hitting way more correct notes than wrong ones. And did I mention we’re having fun?
Anyway, part deux: we break for a few minutes. Alto Kim stands up to stretch her legs. I feel someone looking at me. I look up and smile at her.
“You know, we’re really happy that you’re here, you and Carol (other new alto next to me),” she says. “We’re sounding better and so much fuller. Before it was just us three.” She nods to the other two altos who have been around for some time.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m happy to be here. I’m having a great time.”
It’s been a long time since I’ve been a member of a group, since I belonged to anything. It’s one thing to join something, but it’s a whole other thing to feel like you belong.