When I was young (like pre-teenage years) I was fearless.
Give me a song to sing, a play to act, or a stage to dance on and I would get up there and dance, sing and act my ass off.
This was apparent when I got the chance to sing Tutti Frutti at my grade school talent show. Or when I performed Michael Jackson’s Thriller – with all of the moves – in my first grade performance.
Little Richard and Michael Jackson were particularly inspirational to me at the time because of their complete creative freedom of expression. I was in tune with it and I knew it was exactly where I wanted to go.
I got the same feeling when as a youngster I got to see Bruce Springsteen perform on his Born In the USA tour (yeah I might be dating myself a little). He was so incredibly uninhibited and carefree. It was contagious and it united an entire stadium full of adoring fans whilst singing his songs verbatim.
These were my idols. Because they were expressing themselves with every ounce of their being, with the power and skill of adults who’d honed their crafts over decades but with the free spiritedness of children.
When I got into my teenage years things started to change.
I became – like most teenagers – self conscious and I worried about what others thought of me.
Part of this was most likely normal evolution. Built-in to protect me from falling off of a cliff or getting hit by a truck (or maybe eaten by bears?).
It was exacerbated by some of the feedback I received from the world. For example: I can remember like it was yesterday a certain family member who I loved and respected dearly telling me (literally) “don’t quit your day job” after hearing me sing.
This moment was absolutely devastating to me. I’ve forgotten dozens of compliments and positive affirmations that I’ve received since – and yet this one slight seems to be etched in my brain forever. Why is that?
This is just an example of a string of negative comments about my performance that chipped away at my confidence and cumulatively led me to step away from opportunities to get on stage. Not only did I step away – I began to actively hide from the spotlight.
That was until after I graduated from college.
I hit a bottom that I’ve shared about in a previous article. In large part, I realized that I’d completely lost my way and needed to find my way back to those things that lit my fire as a child.
One of these: performing. So I picked up my guitar and wrote songs. I didn’t play them for anyone yet – I was too scared. But I wrote them late at night in the beautifully empty silence of my studio apartment in Hollywood.
And eventually I played one of my songs for my best friend in the whole world. He was a safe place. But still, I remember being so terrified and nervous that my whole body felt numb.
“Not bad.” He said. He was too kind. It was very bad. And later on he’d tell me that my singing was borderline excruciating. “But” he said, “there was something there.”
This same desire carried me on stage months later to play at an open mic, where I encountered a similarly paralyzing terror. But I did it anyway.
This same desire carried me on stage for nearly a decade playing and touring with a band as we played major festivals alongside acts like the Black Keys, Phish and Muse.
And this same desire has me continuing to get my ass on stage to sing my songs and connect with crowds of friends, fans and family because…it’s what I love to do.
There’s something about rediscovering that joy that we have as children. Before the world has crushed our spirit. That helps us to find our deepest purpose.
As I do in all of my articles, I’d like to share one of my songs with you.
It’s called “Bad Things With You” and it’s about surrendering your inhibitions and being the person you wish you could be if no one was looking. And imagining: “what if I could be that same person on a stage in front of a thousand people?”
What if…
READ Black Eye to Black Belt: The Ass Kicking That Saved My Life
From Harvard Honors to Hitting Bottom: My Musical Rebirth
From Serial Dater to Soulmate: My Journey in the City of Angels
What’s Your Legacy? How Fatherhood and Music Transformed My Life
Ari Welkom, known on stage as Avatari, is an LA-based alt-rock singer and actor. A Harvard graduate, married father of two, and former college athlete, he practices martial arts and champions anti-bullying, equal rights, and unity on his journey of recovery. Follow him on Instagram or Twitter (X)!
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Internal image courtesy of author
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: iStock
