I Went to Don't Tell Mama (and heard Karen T sing)

Never Done: I Went to Don't Tell Mama (and heard Karen T sing)

My thinking about the mide (middah) if Silence: Reflect before speaking has been developing all week, and reached new level of insight at a cabaret class performance at Don't Tell Mama. I went to hear my friend Karen sing a set of 3 songs, along with five of her classmates who also each sang sets of 3 songs. During the first four performances (Karen sang fifth) my mind was aflutter with judgment. Judgment about people's voices, their song choices, their outfits, their stage patter. I was aware enough of my judgmental thoughts to keep my facial expressions neutral to positive -- and I certainly didn't lean over to my friends give voice to any of my negative thoughts. But I was thinking them, and at some point I realized that they were loud, and that I was not controlling them, and that the mide of silence could be well applied to my own thoughts before I even get to my own speech.

What's really going on when my mind is fixating on the tone of pink on a woman's dress? Is it trying to distract itself from the shrill quality of her voice? Or the sustained flat notes? I know that sounds catty and judgmental, but it's actually a real question -- am I trying to stop focusing on one negative thing -- about singing -- by focusing on a different negative thing? What if I would instead focus on what a sweet and supportive crowd it is, or her pretty cheekbones? Would that perhaps make me less uncomfortable about the weaknesses in her performance? All this was going on in my mind when my friend Karen took the stage.

And as soon as she did, my mind chatter stopped. Karen was riveting. Her first few notes were easy and confident, and as they grew into a soulful rendition of Good Mother -- a 1994 hit by Candian singer-songwriter Jann Arden I somehow had never heard. Either it was her grounded charisma combined with her fluid yet strong voice combined with her transcendent song choice (Strange Fruit and Love is a Battlefield) and her patter about the nexus of race, enslavement and Red Lobster that chased the negative chatter right out of my head, or it was because (and I understand that this is ethically problematic) I care about Karen more than I care about the other singers. I guess either way, what I'm saying is that I was experiencing something more interesting and more important than the inner critic -- love and friendship and genuine involvement in the performance -- and it just silenced my mind.

So how do we silence the mind when it's louder than its surroundings? I'm thinking probably a practice of mindful appreciation, like I alluded to earlier. If the voice is flat, can I appreciate the song? If the song is dull, can I appreciate the dress? If the dress is garish, can I appreciate the intention behind wearing the garish dress, or the progress I assume the singer has made, or the lights, or the heymish and supportive atmosphere in the room? In other words, I think there is always something positive to pay attention to, and I think that with practice, I should be able to raise the volume on that voice, and mute the judgmental chatter.