I’m not a natural singer. My family will tell you my bedroom signing was more than painful to experience. I remember trying to sing/shout the high notes from some 90’s punk rock songs and although I remember loving it, I’m pretty sure my notes fell way flat.
Earlier this year, walking up a mountain comes with its own moments of serenity but this mountain trip had a nice extra serene surprise at the top. On a sunny February in Spain, myself and my partner in crime went to Montserrat, just outside Barcelona. It has a monistry half way up the mountain which you could actually take the half way up to (lazy I know, but we only had a few hours )
At some point along the way, whilst taking in the stunning views I could hear a faint melody in the air.. We shrugged it off and carried on, until I caught sight of a couple of guys some way above us, kneeling down, staring out into the distance. Out of the still silence, one of them started singing.. He was quite far away, but you could still just make out a beautiful melody. He sang loud and proud. I figure he must of been one of the monks from the monistry. I love it because unlike walking, talking, running, breathing, there’s no direct purpose. You don’t need to sing to survive per say. Rather, you get to.
I guess it’s like an outlet. A steam pressure release. Just like screaming out in agony, when you stub your toe on a corner! Imagine trying to keep a straight face and not cry out in pain when you stub your toe or step on a plug?!As I said, I’m no natural singer. I guess I just kept doing it, and I happened to be ok at it at the moment.
Singing is somehow freeing, powerful and profound. Sing in the good times, and sing in the complicated and hard times. Just please don’t ever let the fear of what you sound like to others stop you.
When ever I think of mountains, I now think of this song by a friend Malc Evans