In their Toltec beliefs, “the truth is that everything in creation is perfect, including the humans.” Continuing to explain the concept, they further insist:

“Everything about us is perfect, including any disability or disease that we may have. Someone with a learning difficulty is perfect; someone born without a finger or an arm or an ear is perfect; someone with a disease is perfect. Only perfection exists, and that awareness is another important step in our evolution.”

Perhaps I present these inspired authors unfairly by dropping you in the middle of a probably unfamiliar and weighty concept; however, after my morning volunteering at The Cerebral Palsy Center of New York, I can honestly say I met some amazing people, perfect in their current state. About a month ago, my work as a soloist began with a concert at Mt. Sinai Hospital for some incredibly grateful patients and staff. On that day, my definition of an audience changed forever.

Today, singing with Jacqueline Ballarin, I caught a glimpse of happiness in handshakes, stories, and wheelchairs. George and Karik came in early and talked with us about puppies and trips and asked what we would sing. The pure joy oozing from Karik’s face when we shook his hand melted my heart.

When looking for a quiet concert venue, do not choose The Cerebral Palsy Center of New York, where the inhabitants laugh, sing along, and joke uncontrollablly as they experience the emotions we usually temper and control with a beautiful abandon. Jacquie boldly navigated the crowd as she sang, making them feel wanted and entertained, and they responded with exclamations of “Wow” and “I wish I could sing like that.”

After our songs had ended, Timothy showed us to the front door, pulling his wheelchair along with the wooden railings installed on every wall. Smiling as brightly as the applause that had rung through the corridors, Timothy thanked us, laughed, and corrected the staff member we passed who insisted that he raps. Apparently, he writes poetry and sings R&B. After seeing the paintings along the walls done by artists in their community, I don’t doubt it one bit.

Perfect? I suppose that depends on how you define the word. Despite their illness, these stunning people find and share joy by the mile – a talent we could all stand to develop further. Personally, I cannot imagine a better way to have spent my day. I don’t know for whose hope I just sang – theirs, or my own.

Living with a restriction here or there occasionally frustrates me, so I look for ways to improve and simplify my diet and life. One recent day in NYC, I woke in a bit of a funk and thought I might strap on my Skydiving for Pearls attitude and try something new. Enter Groupon.

If you haven’t met Groupon Now yet, the app will give you on-demand coupons in your area available to redeem today within a specified time frame. Through Groupon Now that gloomy morning, I discovered a place called Amplitude Vibration Studio who offered a ten dollar introduction workout in their state of the art facility.

What the heck is a vibration studio? I asked myself the same question as I purveyed their website, watching strange videos of people working out while vibrating on a machine I’d never before encountered or seen. Seriously grabbing my attention, Amplitude Vibration Studios promised a boatload of benefits, including increased bone density (great news for a girl with an extensive family history of osteoporosis) and improved circulation.

Sold. If they could potentially improve my circulation on a chilly day, I would happily pay much more than the $10 deal through Groupon. After traversing to the Upper East Side and signing a surprising plethora of disclaimers regarding my current state of health, I met David, one of the owners and the trainer with whom I would experience my first workout.

I returned three times since that day when David first introduced me to a phenomenal exercise that did indeed live up to its promises. I stood on their vibration machine and first felt the intense vibrations coarsing strongly through all my cells at a rate of 22 times per second. Explaining that higher rates work well for exercise and that vibrations less than 15 times per second work well for people needing physical therapy and massage, David demonstrated the plates within the little box upon which I stood.

He led me slowly and carefully through each exercise for the first time, including lunges, squats, flexibility stretches, and even tricep bends and the plank. Altogether, I worked out for little more than twenty minutes and felt like I had experienced the best and most efficient training session in years. I kid you not. My muscles felt sore in places I never expected over the next two days. I felt warm for a change, days after the exercise actually briefly flushed my skin from the improved circulation. I left feeling happier and having spent far less time there than I usually spend at New York Sports Club.

While on my visit, David also told me of their regular yoga classes, TRX personal training, occasional seminars, and physical therapy options. Then I saw it, a potential savior for my marathon training: an anti-gravity treadmill! Showing me how one zips into the machine, David briefly took ten, then twenty percent of my body weight off and increased my speed with no real danger to my legs or heart, both unaccustomed to running so fast. I can see why their calendar filled with marathon runners last fall, taking pressure off their sore bodies while still continuing their practice and momentum. Brilliant.

Amplitude Vibration Studio shook my cells and rocked my world, I have to admit. Last I checked, they offered free brief demos, intend to open a store within the year on the Upper West Side, and have monthly plans comparable to a gym membership with customized and far more efficient workouts with many immediate and long-term benefits outside of a standard routine. Until you use the vibration equipment, it’s hard to imagine the full effect. Visit their website for a complete list of benefits and programs and to see if you qualify to use the equipment. I can’t recommend them more highly, and I know I’ll go again.

Afterwards, having dinner with a friend with whom I sang and another friend who came to the performance, I remembered what it felt like to eat and enjoy company for hours without really ever needing the time to end. Yay. Then shopping for groceries with a friend? Still actually a lot of fun. Finally, while on the subway coming home, I met Paul and Eric, a lovely couple who live in my neighborhood, and we talked about local news channels, cantoring, donating televisions, and our lives.

Why did I not want to leave the apartment today? Between watching my boyfriend’s Aikido test yesterday and all the events of today, I enjoyed a very charmed weekend. I suspect I sometimes hesitate to actively live because I’ve done a lot of “shoulding” myself in life. Saying that I have to go to work or that I need to leave for my gig makes me forget or even dread the important parts. I LOVE MY JOB! Furthermore, I love my life. I want to everything I did today, and most days of my life. I like to sing and act, and I choose to enjoy friends who try new things and value living in the moment with me.

Some things require more effort, and I admittedly will have a harder time removing the musts, shoulds, have tos, need tos, am supposed tos, and ought tos from my vocabulary on my next task: taxes. For a little inspiration, Marshall B. Rosenberg provides a story in his book, Nonviolent Communication.

I recall, however, from my childhood how differently my father and grandfather felt about paying taxes. They had immigrated to the United States from Russia and were desirous of supporting a government they believed was protecting people in a way that the czar had not. Imagining the many people whose welfare was being served by their tax money, they felt earnest pleasure as they sent their checks to the U.S . government. 

I feel grateful that so many without jobs can receive extended unemployment benefits right now. My taxes support student loan programs, some healthcare, education, some of the arts, and so many other great initiatives. Granted, I may not agree with or even know all of the ways in which the government spends my tax dollars. I certainly didn’t study accounting and usually prefer people to numbers, so crunching them doesn’t usually excite me as much.

That said, I want to change the way I think, live, and speak, in the most positive way I currently know how. Whether I sing, act, prepare taxes, hang out with friends, exercise, work, or just live, I want to do it well and as joyfully as I can. So perhaps tomorrow I may not wake up wanting to work on my taxes, but instead of “shoulding” myself, I will choose to take on our annual national ritual of filing taxes, with the beautiful music of Notre Dame still ringing in my ears.

As for my other goals? At the top of the list of course lies finishing. I also would ideally love to run the entire race, although as my first ever running event, I will happily walk if needed to arrive at the finish line. Truthfully, as a fresh-faced marathon newbie, I feel nervous to begin training for this next major Skydiving for Pearls adventure. How will I manage keeping my nutrition and energy elevated, with my regularly low blood sugar levels? Will I stay motivated and injury free? And seriously – rain? Cold weather in the fall and early spring training? Can’t I just run this thing on an indoor track somewhere?

Today I faced my first fitness challenge with a bit of a weather monster. Everyone has their dragons to slay… Mine? I hate the cold. That said, I also adore skiing! Vacationing in Okemo, VT has brought me a lot of fun, and we had a tremendous day on the slopes yesterday. Moguls kept me on my toes, and my body had an excellent workout. Still, I felt a bit unsure on shorter skis than usual and rarely ski without taking a private lesson, so I signed up for the following morning at 8:30 AM private. Early, but cheaper and with far fewer people on the slopes.

When I left our studio this morning, I thought the freezing rain might stop soon. Not so much. Kevin, my fun and knowledgeable instructor, helped me work on my turns, edges, and balance. Despite my fogged-up sunglasses (I promptly bought new goggles after my lesson ended), I loved challenging my mind and body to improve upon a sport I enjoy and revisit only once a year at best. Honestly, I can’t wait to go back out this afternoon and try out my new techniques… After the rain stops.

Racing down my final hill in my lesson, the hail stung my face and made my glasses almost unusable. The cold began to seep through my soaked ski pants, and I realized the water from the wet ski lifts had permeated down to my now quite cold skin. As I contemplated whether more expensive gloves might protect my hands better, I considered my upcoming marathon training. I will not likely want to run in freezing rain, but with the marathon in early November, I probably won’t.

Having enjoyed today’s lesson despite close to the worst weather conditions I can imagine, I learned another lesson I hadn’t quite expected. All of the things that can go wrong pale in comparison to the potential for growth, fun, and new experiences. Weather doesn’t matter really, and even the cold doesn’t sting quite so strongly when the heart starts racing for a fun sport or a good cause. I imagine the children who benefit from Team for Kids learn that truth well. Having slayed my morning weather monster, I feel much more confident and can’t wait to start running for those kids. This marathon, and training for it, might actually provide me with as much fun as the challenge itself, no matter the weather.

Rehearsal with Benjamin C.S. Boyle and Eugene Sirotkine

I love social media. You probably know that. I also look forward to Social Media Week twice a year, when this amazingly free conference graces major cities worldwide with their advice and musings about the history, direction, and uses of social media. Why? As Gary Vaynerchuk points out in his book The Thank You Economy, “Social media has transformed our world into one great big small town, dominated, as all vibrant towns used to be, by the strength of relationships, the currency of caring, and the power of word of mouth.” As someone who relishes bumping into friends from Israel on the subway in Manhattan, I can’t resist having another tool to turn my big city life into more of the small town environment in which I once lived as a child.

Since you’re reading Skydiving for Pearls, I imagine you also value the ability to “pop in” on friends, checking out their statuses and “liking” their newest smart purchase, recent personal triumph, or webisode (like the next installment of the Kara Morgan Show). Perhaps you don’t anticipate streaming events on Livestream with conferences from Social Media Week, or you’ve never actually seen a TED Talk. Either way, we’ve all seen video online and more of it as time moves forward, live or pre-recorded. Watching performances of friends, episodes of our favorite shows, that adorable cat who likes to shower.

Sometime last year at a Social Media Week conference, I discovered the value in video. Livestream still has me hooked, and I can learn from online clips how to do everything from folding a shirt to making my next iMovie. At this discovery, I had a million ideas and no real clue of how to execute them. My April in Paris recital with Eugene Sirotkine seemed the perfect opportunity to attempt a live video stream, had I only the money and tools, which I didn’t. Instead, I gratefully accepted the offer of a professional audio recording from my friend Rich Salz, an accomplished audio engineer and the brains behind On-Site Acoustic Testing.

Now what? Well, I had a (supposedly) high-quality webcam. Perhaps I could bring my laptop, record in HD, and mix the professional audio together with the video. Not a brilliant plan, apparently. Logitech‘s webcams have a surprisingly notorious issue of recording in too few frames per second and crashing certain professional video editing softwares, such as the one installed on my old PC and Adobe Premiere Pro, used by a professional video editing friend I had hoped to employ. Whoops.

No more tech talk, but I did have to return to the drawing board. Many months later, I have a new Apple laptop and a plethora of YouTube videos to teach me how to use iMovie 11. Thank you social media. Uploading my first song of many to come, today I finally joined the digitally functional community of video. Although April in Paris: A Recital with Abigail Wright and Eugene Sirotkine definitely sounds clearer than it looks overall, I present to you a new song by a brilliant, living composer and a fresh beginning for my online community. Expect much more to follow.

At the Wright family dinner each night, everyone always seemed to have a story to tell. Something happened at school or work, and perhaps a new theory on the universe had recently hatched. Compliments of my father, politics, science, technology and current events graced our table regularly, and I have always admired him as a true, Jeopardy-excelling, information sponge.

His tireless love of learning continues, whether he studies a new way to enhance his MRI images at work, reads a science journal, or checks in to see how other sailors live aboard their boats. When I called my family the other day, my mother said, “Your father’s scuba diving in the living room.” Not literally. Excitedly he re-lived his last scuba certification class, as he exclaimed, “I got a hundred.” Perfect.

In my own efforts to ride the learning curve, I on the other hand usually need to abandon my instinctive desire for perfection, my need to “ace the test.” As a singer and actor, I’ve recently witnessed the power and importance of living and performing in the moment, as a real and flawed person. Isn’t Julia Roberts perfect? No. In fact, her breakthrough role came in Pretty Woman, where her character fantastically broke just about every rule imaginable in a quirky and unapologetically real personality.

My ego would much rather I strive for perfection at every turn, as a safer, more self-protective option. When I cantor at St. Jean Baptiste, trying not to make mistakes leads to one of two problems: errors from my lack of presence in the moment, or fake and stale worship. This weekend, after allowing myself to relax and sing an honest Lord’s Prayer, a perishoner approached me to say how he’d never understood it before hearing my delivery of the prayer. He also told me I sounded like Julia Roberts, and while I’m not quite certain her notoriety comes from singing, I took it as a high and beautifully human compliment.

This week, I’ve decided to use the excuse of the Chinese New Year to further my resolution already set earlier this month: to act with more kindness to myself. Letting go of perfectionism fits perfectly into that plan; although, it seems I may have to work hard to take that word out of my lexicon. As I sing with Opera Collective tonight in the Union Square subway station, I plan to “play with imperfection” (Dallas Travers) and have a grand time just being me. Wish me luck this year of the dragon.

I heart you, Kara Morgan. Thanks for the laughs.

This last day of Autumn, I find myself surrounded by the common theme of new dreams, uncharted challenges, and new adventures to discover. Last week, blessed by four completely different performances for which to prepare and perform, I had the opportunity to check in with my incredibly talented and diverse friends and colleagues. One friend had just produced her second one-woman show. Another contemplated her next steps to her rise to hopeful fame, while a third shared her desire to sing jazz despite not knowing quite where to start. Bold steps by brave people.

Taking me to a black belt Aikido test, another adventurous man opened my eyes to the calm intensity of a challenging practice that intrigues me, and I had the chance to watch even a handful of elderly participants test for their black belt after years of training and discipline. Finally, at a party hosted by some invaluable friends, a photographer friend Michael Chadwick convinced me to run a marathon with him. So, for next Autumn, I’ve decided to run the ING NYC Marathon to support Team for Kids, a non-profit organization working to keep children active and combat childhood obesity. I’ll have more information in future posts, hopefully including details about a team to join if you’d like to take up the challenge with me! In the meantime, please consider helping me get off to a running start with a donation of any amount.

In the similar rush of these changing seasons as Autumn comes to a close, New Year’s seems already upon us, and my friends and I contemplate actions of almost spring-like renewal. In celebration of the rebirth we each have when we wake to a new day and open ourselves to new possibilities, I leave you once again with my dear friend and hero, Kara Morgan. Her ability to create her dreams literally and figuratively, always with a dash of humor, inspires me regularly to take the leaps that scare me most. May we all have such courage to wake up to our dreams this holiday season.

Photo by Andy Drabic

In a life filled with rehearsals, performances, excellent music and art, and wickedly talented and brilliant colleagues, I admittedly forget my surroundings on a fairly regular basis. Yes, I know how to get to Carnegie Hall and while it remains one of my favorite halls in which to sing, walking onstage now feels normal, as does sitting behind a world-class orchestra, conducted by a beloved and famous conductor.

Despite my comfort with this rather unusual life, this month has surprised me in the simplest ways, stirring again my sometimes spoiled heart, mind, and spirit. Earlier this fall, I transitioned to working with a new church choir at the beautiful St. Jean Baptiste on the Upper East Side. Kyler Brown leads a lovely and talented but down-to-earth group, and we traveled together to the small town of Hawley, PA this weekend for what I assumed would be a sweet but run-of-the-mill gig.

Aside from the touching hospitality of our hosts, Kyler and Bill, and the warm, full audience, my ego fully melted away for a moment in the striking company of so many open and welcoming souls. A local writer composed a poem, set to music by Kyler Brown as a lovely hymn dedicated to the town of Hawley. As she read her poetry with the skill of a Shakespearean actor, I found myself transformed into a child, listening to the most fascinating story ever told.

As the final blow to my pampered poise, “Silent Night” made me cry. Seriously. We sang a piece called “Night of Silence” that fits perfectly into the chord structure of “Silent Night,” although it sounds completely different. After the first verse, one of our basses led the audience in “Silent Night,” above the framework of okour song. As waves of honest and simple sound poured over us, tears came to my eyes, and I realized the precious beauty of such a rare moment in time.

Although I too love my television, iPod, computer and subways, I also appreciate how much we lose when we forget that we can sing together, share moments of honest beauty together, and shield ourselves together from the cold in real, present, and alive ways this season. Last night, I had the extreme joy of hearing my dear friend Jen Elliot play solo guitar and sing alone for the first time, on her birthday. Tonight, in the Greek Cathedral concert in which I sang, I enjoyed the bassoon solo for the first time, ever. I couldn’t be happier to have gone out in the cold pre-winter air, when the rewards come so readily and so beautifully.

Wishing you a very happy holiday season, real, present, and full of surprising firsts.