>Performance Anxiety

>It was unplanned.  Rich and I went to a local cafe to watch a friend perform at an open mic night to show our support.  I hadn't anticipated the feeling that would over take me as I watched a 15 year old boy scream his way through Motley Crew.  There were quite a few people there.  More than I expected, anyway.  And the usual open-mic characters, at that.  There are the regulars, who flirt with the cute barista girls as they deliver their espressos to their table ( without having to ask, of course).  Then, the washed-up hippies with toothless grins, harmonicas and vests with fringe playing the Eagles after the Beatles after The Band.  Next, the wanna-be's.  Often awkward looking, always nervous, voices cracking wearing outdated tee-shirts of artists they long to emulate but could never come close (though no one, not even the uninterested, rockstar in the corner, has the heart to tell them).  

I had planned only to go, not to perform.  But when our friend walked off stage (who's incredible, by the way and does not fit in any aforementioned category) laid his guitar next to Rich it was clear that it should not remain unused.  

It's been a while since I've been up in front of anyone for sole performance sake.  I sing worship at church, which is using my gift but certainly not performance related.  I teach, which is basically performing all the time, though not music related.  As I walked up to the stage, I tried to recall what it felt like to perform in front of people who are there for no other reason but to listen to you.

I am not the best performer who has ever graced the stage.  I'm not the best singer.  I'm not the best song writer.  I'm not the most composed, witty, refined or capable.  But in a little, small town cafe on a motley crew of an open-mic night,  I remembered who I was created to be.  With each pregnant pause, each coy remark, each audience member I made eye contact with, each high note, each run- this is what I love and what I do the best.  I can't say that about anything else- nor do I want to.  And that, well, that's really something.