Years ago, I was staying with a dear friend during a particularly difficult period of my life. One morning while staying with her, I awoke feeling depressed and utterly buried by my bleak circumstances—the task list to resolve my situation was overwhelming. All I wanted to do was pull the covers over my head and never get up. Instead, I walked into the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and stood sipping my cool beverage, staring at the mishmash of items stuck on the fridge door. My eyes caught on a 3×5 note card.
“Begin, the rest is easy.”
The words hit me with great force. My despair gradually turned to resolve. That day I simply began by getting dressed and brushing my teeth. But that simple start moved me to resolving what at the time seemed to be an insurmountable challenge.
Over the years those words have become a sort of mantra. I think of them often—at least several times a week when I dread lacing up my running shoes. But then as soon as I am out the door and have climbed my first hill, the endorphins kick in and the rest is, in a sense, easy.
I think of it each month when it is time to write my editorial for a new issue. I open a document and sometimes stare into its blank and blinding white vastness for far too long. Once I place a few words on the page, the rest often seems to write itself.
The articles in this issue present an exposition on beginning and then enduring in the face of obstacles and challenges. Character tenor Anthony Laciura, featured in this month’s cover story, knows all about beginning again and again. He had the voice to sing lead roles, and yet his intense charisma and insanely good comedic timing made him ideal for a comprimario career. Rather than bemoan his loss, he began what would become a huge career in small roles at the top opera house in the country. Now retired from the Met, he is beginning again, this time appearing in a new HBO television series.
Sometimes beginning one thing requires stopping something else, as Cindy Sadler shares in her column this month (p. 12). Her pep talk: stop whining about what is not fair and start winning by focusing on the things you can control. Jennifer Porto piggybacks on this with tales of how much of a Fest singer’s life can seem unfair, and yet you must learn to roll with the punches and sing well no matter the circumstances (p. 16).
On my right ring finger I wear the ring that my husband proposed with. Inscribed around the band is another favorite saying of mine: “The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” Perhaps it is focusing on the length of the journey that makes us dread beginning at all. We put off starting, we procrastinate, we drag our feet, for fear of what the journey entails.
Two singers know about taking the first step that led them on very long journeys. M Ryan Taylor’s remarkable road to weight loss began when he simply picked up a book about beautiful hikes in his home state. Now some thousands of steps later, both large and small, Taylor wraps up his four-part series by sharing the principles that have led to losing nearly 100 pounds and changing his life forever (p. 40). Measha Brueggergosman is also no stranger to weight loss and life changing events, including open-heart surgery. Some two years after the event, she shares details of how she began her journey back (p. 36).
Reading these singers’ stories has reminded me that procrastination leads nowhere but to spinning our wheels and standing still. Staying stagnant provides no joy or fulfillment. Joy comes in making progress, accomplishing, and achieving our musical and personal goals. That requires action and work—and yes, beginning with the first step.
