Singing to the Whales — a Song of Courage, Bold and Brave

What would I do if I wasn’t afraid?

Funny you should ask…

I wrote some posts to help people overcome their fears about their bucket list. Therein I shared some tools I use, including doing research, breaking the big, scary thing into manageable chunks, and talking to others about how they overcame their fears.

Or else, doing something along the lines of the next best thing.

I have a goal that scares me: learning to sing.

Because I suck at singing. I mean, really. I can not carry a tune to save my life. Or at least that’s what I’ve been telling myself for years and years.

But to be more accurate, I can hit somewhere between three and five notes on a fairly low range — more tenor than alto. But the thrill I get when I’m in sync with those notes is off the charts.

I need to make a list of my favorite songs in my narrow range. One is Suzanne by Leonard Cohen. If I were more skilled, perhaps I could figure out how to adapt any song to my vocal range. But then we get into things like keys, and I’m lost. So for me, it’s hit or miss.

I would love to be able to sing full out, un-self-consciously, and not be the one who mouths the words to save other people’s eardrums.

The next step for me, when I am ready, is to find a teacher or a class geared for the musically challenged — the tone-deaf.

In the meantime, I noticed that my singing ability improved when I chanted as a spiritual practice. I’ve chanted Om and Ah for short bursts at a time. Doing this improved my breathing, strengthening my chest, and other core muscles — which I believe are connected to singing.

I’ve heard it said that if you can breathe, you can sing. This gives me hope. Lots of hope. I know I’ve gotten better, but I have a ways to go.

One place I sing, no matter how I sound.

That’s doing theatrical improv. I’ve done workshops with two bay area improvised singing teachers. Both provide music for improv shows in San Fransisco. David Norfleet is sweet and encouraging. The other guy, who is even more famous, is a jerk.

He had the gall to tell me that I would sing better if I stood still and quit trying to dance. Bull. That swaying I was doing helped me keep time. I complained about him to the program director of our school, Stagebridge, and guess what? They haven’t had him back.

I also sang one line in a short play I was in at a showcase — to the tune of the Hokey Pokey. Can’t go wrong with the Hokey Pokey, right? It was in my range, so it worked. I even shared it at church, and people clapped, knowing how big a deal that was for me.

I have an image of myself at our little local talent night singing into the microphone. That’s my image of success. I love reciting poetry into a microphone. I love hearing my voice reverberate.

So hearing myself singing without cringing would be the bomb.

But to sing to the whales, I’d need to learn scuba diving,

It’s on my bucket list.

Not in 2021, most likely, but man, would I love to be able to go deeper than you can with a snorkel.

Don’t get me wrong, snorkeling is fantastic. I’ve seen breathtakingly beautiful marine life in the Yucatan Peninsula and even in Acapulco, Mexico.

I’ve seen a lacy curtain of long undulating pink jellyfish tentacles as far as the eye can see in what they call mal-agua. You do not want to swim in mal-agua. Those tentacles sting badly should they brush across your skin. But boy, are they beautiful!

I’ve seen all kinds of bright-colored fish, and even some ones with mean teeth like barracuda. Corals, anemones, starfish, and all kinds of crabs and shelled creatures. At age ten, I was destined to be a marine biologist.

My heart is still there even though I have lots of fears about being tethered to an oxygen line, being deep underwater, at the mercy of currents.

My experience with snorkeling was that at the surface, things were choppy and scary. Still, once I put my face in the water and focused on the lush life swimming all around me, everything was calm and peaceful, just from a head tilt.

But I don’t want to ignore real dangers.

I’ve heard enough horror stories. And while I can swim, I may need to be a better swimmer to be safe with scuba.

Here’s’ the thing. I need to do my research. There’s a world-class scuba school near me — closed now. But at some point, they’ll open up again. At least ask my questions and find out what it would take, what classes are like, and if they have a class geared to seniors.

I should talk to divers in my skill and age range. How did they get past those limitations? Are there diving trip outfits that cater to our demographic? I imagine there are since we boomers are booming!!!

This is a lot to chew on. And that’s fine for now.

Once it’s safe to do so, I can get out and support our local aquariums at the San Francisco Academy of Science and down in Monterrey.

FYI my bucket list says swim with the dolphins and belly roll with the manta rays. I don’t know if the dolphins need me to be able to scuba. The manta rays don’t. That’s done at night, with a guide, hanging onto a surfboard.

The scariest thing I’d have to do is jump or climb off the pontoon boat into the tropical water in the dark, with friends and a guide. It might be scary for a minute, but no way am I going to stay on the pontoon and miss the kiss!

Thanks to Leana Hardgrave for letting me know this even is a thing!!!

Thanks, Diana C. for this week’s provocative prompts!

Marilyn Flower writes political humor and satire to delight socially and spiritually conscious folks. She’s a regular columnist for the prison newsletter, Freedom Anywhere, where she writes about faith and prayer. Five of her short plays have been produced in San Francisco. Clowning and improvisation strengthen her resolve during these crazy times. Stay in touch!