Find your own white horse

The calm inside the studio contrasted with the zoo of activity brimming just outside the door as several hundred hopefuls were either lining up in their groups, coming off the elevators, or chatting with their neighbors.  I stood alongside 14 others inside the room as we talked amongst ourselves, (instructed to do so), while they looked us over and then flipped through our headshots and resumes.  My heart bounced and bumped in my chest as I saw mine get placed to the side to be joined only by two others.  I tried to act like I didn’t notice while talking to my neighbor about how many auditions she had done that week.  As my name was called and I was asked to stay, I experienced the simple thrill of being chosen out of a lineup.  My first in a New York audition.  Walking back out of the room, my heart pounded as I went to grab my music, swig some water, and refresh my lipstick as the majority of people left for the elevator.

The familiar jolt was there instantly like a shot to the arm.  My vessels dilated with the focus settling me as I got into a second line.  I hugged my songbook to my chest, closed my eyes and ran my 16 bars through my head; making the emotional connections necessary as taught in my recent coachings.  I decided that it was OK to allow myself to revel in the rarity of the moment because they fuel us to endure the next round of auditions where we may experience nary a nod.  It is our protection against giving up. After a couple of minutes the door opened again.  I took two deep breaths and walked into the room for the second time…..

Sitting together in audition holding areas, sharing a glass of wine or leaning in over coffee, we remind each other that the pursuits in this profession should not be seen as ones peppered with rejection but simply as moments about not being exactly what they need.  We hold mental fortitude against the continual onslaught of doubts threatening our self-confidence.  We learn to love the process as much as the outcome; growing and improving with each experience.

Having said that, I was not surprised to observe most of that logic fly swiftly out the window as I stood in the room in those few seconds when I watched the music director’s hand brush over my headshot.  I felt the overwhelming and almost childlike desire to simply be picked.

As this round of auditions ended and I pushed the elevator button like I had done so many times over these several months, I allowed myself, again, to imagine receiving the phone call with my dream on the other end of it.