A voice is not something acquired. Everyone has one.
It’s not something that anyone can give you—not even the best of teachers or directors.
It’s not something that can be surrendered to anyone – maybe offered to a project bigger than yourself, but never, never sacrificed.
There’s no reason a voice can’t be a source of pride, something to be protected and nurtured, something to care for. It’s just a natural property of the bodies we’re given.
But as I’ve said before, it’s not “you.” It’s a vehicle.
In the same way that your voice is not “you,” neither is the pitcher his arm; neither is the accountant his ledger; neither is the model her body. The body is not “you.” The body is a vehicle.
Now, I’m not putting this out there as a fact, or as some eternal truth. It’s a realization that I offer to those for whom it is relevant. We get so obsessed with equating ability with identity in our culture that we overwork ourselves on our abilities, thinking our identities are at stake.
But if the body is only a vehicle of our being, then getting a doctor’s suggestion to lose weight or change our habits will be only be as personal as the suggestion of an oil change for your car. It wouldn’t be a big deal. We wouldn’t have to get defensive about it; we wouldn’t have to try to protect our egos. We can disassociate the body from morality and character; then adopting healthy habits won’t feel so personal.
The same goes for the voice. If you don’t pass an audition, it doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person, or something’s wrong with you, or the person who auditioned you. Your self is not at stake; you keep that going in and coming out, regardless.
And neither is your voice at stake; you keep that too. Just keep conditioning it and caring for it. While it’s not “you,” it is, however, yours. So be a good caretaker.