Last week, I went out with my husband to see a Queen tribute band at my university. The departure was fraught: the babysitter was late and the kids were reluctant to let us go. Luckily, when we arrived, our seats were still available; not so luckily, we were very close to the stage. I don’t know quite what I’d expected, but somehow watching the lead singer trying so hard to look and act like Freddie made me cringe. I suppose if he didn’t, I might have been equally disappointed.
‘Just pretend it’s the real thing’, my husband said when I announced that I hate it, within a minute of our arrival.
‘He looks like Hitler,’ he added a moment later.
I laughed so hard, I cried. Or perhaps I was crying because I’d made it to the ‘fake’ Queen instead of the sold-out real Queen with the amazing Adam Lambert as lead singer?
To be honest, it wasn’t so bad when I closed my eyes. The singer might have even made Freddie proud. It’s amazing how evocative music is; I was transported back into my childhood home, sneaking into my step-dad’s garage to listen to Freddie on reel-to-reel tapes.
We have a saying in Azerbaijan: ‘You can wear someone else’s shoes, but you can’t walk their walk.’ I guess it wasn’t even him trying to walk Freddie’s walk that bothered me. It was the fact that someone would want to wear someone else’s metaphorical ‘shoes’. Would I like this guy better if he chose to be himself? He definitely was very talented. Perhaps he wouldn’t be as popular? I don’t know. There’s a market out there for what he does. The audience was going berserk and the first row was acting like teenagers again, some mere four+ decades later. And despite my resistance, I got into it when he sang ‘I want to break free’ and ‘We will rock you’; I even danced with the rest of the audience towards the end of the concert. Nonetheless, this experience made me realise that
You carry a light no one else can embody no matter how hard they try.
On the way home I burst in tears. I remembered a documentary about Freddie towards the end of his life when he’d been diagnosed with AIDS. What touched me most was the fact that he worked harder than ever. He knew he had so much more to give to the world. That’s how I feel. No, I haven’t got any life-threatening diagnosis. But why wait? It frustrates me no end that some of my potential remains untapped even though I know how much more I can offer to the world.
Don’t wait for that ‘wake-up’ call. Act now. Offer everything you’ve got to life.
And if you want another dose of inspiration, listen to one of my favourite songs here. Sadly people start valuing things in hindsight. Life is precious.
Let your light shine. Let it shine now.
Do you have an untapped potential too? Join my community here and let’s grow together.
P.S. No post from me next week, as I’m at a conference in Berlin for a couple of days.