When I was little I had a very curious, yet debilitating case of stage fright. I spent my whole childhood from the time I was 2 dancing at a ballet studio, with multiple performances a year, and I never struggled with being on stage for that purpose. When I was in 2nd or 3rd grade I auditioned for an after school kids production of Into the Woods. I played Rapunzel and had no problem singing in front of people. But in the years that followed, any time I tried to sing in any type of recital, just as myself, not a character, I wouldn’t be able to get through the first line of the song without breaking down into a puddle of panic induced hysterical tears. No matter how prepared I was, or how much I really wanted to perform, it always ended the same way (probably a bit uncomfortable for the audiences). And believe me this was not for lack of trying. I think it took this happening at least 4 or 5 times before my mom decided something needed to be done about it. Never underestimate my mother’s detective level research skills, or her ability to form a plan of action.
When I was in 6th grade she found this woman named Ida Kendall. Ida was a British lady residing in Beverly Hills who happened to be a certified hypnotist. So I went into her office, we chatted a bit, I laid down on the couch and she spoke to me. I remember feeling a bit skeptical at first, but before I knew it she was snapping her fingers, bringing me back from the deep unconscious state she had put me under. She recorded her session with me and I listened to it every night to fall asleep for the next I don’t know how long. And miraculously, the next time I got up to perform at my school’s solo vocal recital, I sang. I still had nerves of course, but I got through the whole song. And I enjoyed it too. And from then on I was able to sing in front of people as just me
As I’ve gotten older, and my psyche has become more complex, I’ve found that the stage fright didn’t quite disappear, but morphed and evolved alongside my artistic identity. Since writing my own original music, it’s become increasingly frightening to me to perform my own words instead of someone else’s. Recently I sort of hit my breaking point with toiling over this issue, so I found the Ida recording from 2010 and started listening to it again to fall asleep. At some point in the recording, Ida starts talking about that nervous feeling that usually starts in the stomach. She says that feeling doesn’t have to just be anxiety, or interpreted as a sign of danger. She told me that feeling that bubbles up when I’m about to sing in front of people is actually excitement. And that there is safety in being myself on stage. And how could she be wrong? I’ve never been able to make sense of why I should be so afraid of the one thing I want to do most in the world. Why would my body try to keep me from experiencing that joy and accomplishment? Some memories of being on stage are my most treasured.
This conundrum has puzzled me for far too long. And recently, it has me questioning how often I could be mistaking or full on ignoring signals my body is sending me without even realizing it. How often do any of us really notice what we’re feeling in a somatic way, when it isn’t just pain screaming at us, or sleep overriding our brain function.
My mom used to always say to me, “Avi, stop flying out of your body”, and “get grounded, get grounded”. At the time I think she mainly was trying to get me to pay more attention to my surroundings. (Apparently I was a bit spacey and had an issue with walking into walls?) Maybe if she were raising me today she would use a 2025 vernacular equivalent such as “Avi, chill”. My whole life she’s always been an incredibly health conscious individual, and not only that, but she’s always had a seemingly unparalleled level of “in touch-ness” with her body. I’ve always relied on her wisdom, but now that I’m an adult who lives thousands of miles away from her, I’ve found myself often at a loss with what’s going on within my own being.
We live in our bodies every day. We observe ourselves in the mirror, we look down at what our hands are writing or where our feet are walking. We fidget with our hair, bite our nails, fixate on tiny details of our appearances that no one else can see. But how much does the average person really listen to what their body is saying, on a daily, hourly, or even second by second basis?
I hadn’t had a sip of coffee for over a year. I stopped drinking it for a number of reasons, but stayed away really only to try to maintain any modicum of discipline, which I usually find pretty much impossible. That didn’t stop me from slipping into an unquenchable addiction to ceremonial grade matcha, but hey, at least it’s better for my fragile hummingbird heart. Recently I started taking sips here and there from my boyfriend’s americanos just cause they smell so good, but not in a “falling back on the wagon” way. That was until I got to Europe a few days ago. But right now I’m a travella, and travellas live in the moment. They’re not creatures of routine or discipline. How could I deny myself a cappuccino in Italy? That would be offensive to their culture. But I digress…
Today I took one sip of a coffee and instantly felt a rush of anxiety flow through me. As I sit here typing, I'm in a caffeinated frenzy. One would assume that would be enough of an indicator not to pour more of it into my system, but I’ve become an expert at fighting my body’s most basic instincts.
And yet, over the years I have managed to take stock of some of the other physical reactionary patterns my body has to certain emotions. For example, when I’m feeling embarrassed or put on the spot, my chest and neck break out in a splotchy heat rash (for reference, see photo below). When I’m spiraling into the core of my fears I feel like my throat is closing up, as if phantom hands are wrapped around my throat. When I was young, anytime I was waiting in the wings before running out onstage for a ballet performance, I would, without fail, feel like I was about to pee myself. But as soon as I got on stage it would go away. I’ve catalogued these more intense feelings with their accompanying obvious physical sensations, but I think those are just the tip of the iceberg in terms of information my body is trying to communicate to my brain.
I feel like I’ve written a lot about my constant pursuit of distinguishing between gut instincts and fear responses. It kind of keeps me up at night. But unfortunately, thinking about an issue ad nauseam doesn’t really change anything, only actions do. Right?
But maybe there is something in between that can make a difference. There must be some kind of actionable way to push yourself through your fears or obstacles without just trial by fire. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. For me, moments of anxiety, anger or despair can feel like a lifetime. And conversely, moments of genuine joy, or peace or personal breakthroughs can feel so fleeting. What will it take to be able to recognize a feeling in my body in the moment, rather than conceding to my mind’s explanations and frankly, theatrics? Too much crazy fucked up shit is going on in the world, I don’t want to be at war with myself on top of it.
Of course it’ll take some discernment, and some trial and error, but I think it is possible to discover more meaning and answers to our physical senses/sensations if we have patience with ourselves, and the courage to dissect the discomfort. And maybe also the gall when your body tries to communicate with you, to talk back to it. After all, our bodies are the only constant home we really have. And what a gift that is. When anything and everything in our lives feel out of our control, or uncertain, our bodies are still here, constantly trying to process our surroundings, heal us, comfort us, to keep living. I have a voice that wants to be expressed. I have ears that crave music. I have a brain that loves thinking so much it sometimes won’t let me go to sleep. I have legs that want to dance and a belly that demands bread and cheese and guac and chips. I have this body… I want to work it while I’ve got it!
Here’s a playlist for the first official week of summer! I also listed all the youtube links of each song for those who don’t want to give their money to Spotify :) Enjoy xx