"With a Song in My Heart"

I did sing this song, multiple times. It was ok, but just ok. I know that I like a bunch of Richards Rodgers composed tunes, I grew up on them, memorized them, with the introductions, but so far I'm not seeing anything like those. Was Rodgers more inspired when he was working with Hammerstein, or is it that this is just earlier in his career?

With a song in my heart, indeed. I do love the title of this. Songs in my heart, in my head, down my body to my hips and into the earth to swell back up again to my fingers. I broke out dancing the other day in some weird place and I just let it take me, no one around to see. I'm not quite so brave when I sing, in fact, I'm not brave at all. If other people are singing, fine, but even in the car I'm self conscious if I'm not alone. I assume that no one wants to hear it, because growing up my brothers let me know that no one did. Somehow, in that unfair way of perception, this stuck with me more than knowing that my mom loved to hear me sing. Also, unfairly and significantly, I still think back to one incident, shortly after I moved to Pittsburgh and I was staying with my then future-husband, when I was playing guitar and singing loudly as he studied, and he asked me to stop. Because he never again asked me to play, I assumed that he thought I sucked, too.

Why o why do we remember these painful incidents and forget, I presume, so many other beautiful or supportive moments? Though I can remember some of those, too, I just have to try a little harder: my cousin, Lisa, giving me card that tells me how much she always wants to hear me sing, my friend Jamie asking me to sing in the car, successfully busking in Dupont Circle in DC, and having someone request one of the songs I'd written.

Song in my heart, yes. Song in my throat, yes. Song coming out of my mouth, sometimes. But, as I am willing to say to others: grow up, Kathryn. Get over the childhood trauma and sing. Life is short, and who cares if you 'bother' someone briefly. Sing it.