Wrapping up my “From the Stage” Experience: I DID IT!

This is my final blog post documenting my From the Stage experience — bringing this chapter to a close, even though I know the gifts from it will be endless and ongoing, continuing to support my growth and expansion. If you’re curious, you can watch my full 12 minute performance here. ;-)

I need to backtrack first to the final class the week before our actual performance.

I knew going in that I’d be doing my full practice performance, and I felt pretty prepared — excited and nervous at the same time. But that day, as my anxiety started to rise, out of the blue I felt called to pull out an old box of photos. I was thinking about the picture from the morning I got my guitar on Christmas Day.

And I found it.

December 1980. I had just turned ten.

I realized I’ve had this beautiful guitar by my side for over 45 years.

Seeing that little girl — and my sister Lizzy beside me, only six years old — brought me so much comfort. It made me smile. It softened something in me. I decided to bring the photo with me to class, trusting that if it felt right, I’d share it.

And it did.

When I shared it, I was met with so much love. Katie, one of the other participants, said something that literally moved me so much it brought me to tears:

“Jill, you brought your inner child.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way, even though I’d been intentionally doing inner-child work throughout this process. She then asked how old I was in the photo and said, “Think about how excited she would be about what you’re doing right now.”

It was a profound moment.

Without another thought, I put the photo into my pocket as I prepared to go on stage for my full practice performance. It felt so healing. So sacred.

I did my set — two songs and my poem — and it felt good. Smooth. Grounded. My confidence grew. The response from my group was incredible. Shawna later told me that she and Katie looked at each other at one point with chills and said, “We could feel you.”

That meant everything to me.

That’s all I’ve ever wanted — for people to feel the joy and passion I feel when I sing and play. To let it move through me. And in that moment, I knew I had done that.

A few days later, Shawna posted a sneak peek video from our practice to help promote the showcase. It showed me on stage singing.

When I saw it, I burst into tears — and not in a good way.

I went straight into self-criticism and judgment. I felt exposed and so uncomfortable, and I didn’t understand why. I reached out to Shawna, not for answers, but simply to share what I was experiencing. She gently encouraged me to sit with the feelings.

So I did.

I let myself cry. I let myself have the breakdown without judging it. I went to the beach to ground myself and realized I didn’t need to analyze it — I just needed to not push it down. I think it caught me off guard because I’d been feeling so good. Old habits of judgment are so deeply ingrained that they showed up automatically.

But then came the epiphany.

I realized I was actually seeing my vulnerability — physically seeing it. And when that clicked, something shifted. I suddenly saw the beauty in all of it.

A few days later, the venue used a still image of me from that same practice performance to promote the showcase. When I saw it, instead of cringing, I smiled. I felt proud that they chose an image of me fully in my moment — me in my authenticity.

And then it was show day.

Tuesday, January 27.

I cleared my schedule so I could take care of myself and stay out of my head. I couldn’t focus on work anyway. I went to the beach. I sang a little. I warmed up with my regular routine. I knew I was as prepared as I could be.

The waiting was the hardest part — my mind loves to tell stories when it has too much time and space. So I arrived early, drove around the block singing songs I loved (not my performance songs), just to feel joy. I felt good in my outfit. I was excited to see my sister and the few friends I’d invited.

I had done the work. The inner work. The practice. The preparation. I was ready.

I had been calling in my spirit guides and angels — and I felt them. So clearly. That’s a story for another day, but I felt surrounded by love and light.

At the venue, the other performers arrived. The room came together. I moved my body and bounced around the room intentionally trying to move the nervous energy — something I’d learned in a movement/dance workshop earlier that week. That workshop alone was a powerful experience, teaching me how to move stuck energy through my body.

I felt deeply comforted by the people I’d be sharing the stage with — each of them courageous in their own way.

Monty, bravely sharing his story of trauma, multiple brain injuries and how it has affected his life.
Katie, offering a spoken word piece about nursing as both her sacred wound and her healing.
Amanda, shining through music, including a piece written from her heart.
Ryan, stepping into comedy for the first time.
Zahanna, a young, gifted singer-songwriter already walking toward her dreams.
And Shawna — holding this entire container with such grace, intention, care and love.

This experience felt like The Breakfast Club — individual journeys woven together into something deeply communal and powerful. The love and support of the group made all the difference. It’s hard to put into words the bond I experienced with them in such a short period of time.

When my friends arrived, I felt calmer. Seeing familiar faces grounded me. I noticed my sister from across the room but waited to greet her — I didn’t want to get emotional just yet.

Then it was time.

Shawna began the introduction. Zahanna opened with her original song Shine — so fitting. As Shawna started to introduce me, I stood there holding my guitar, unsure of when to move. I stepped forward and awkwardly asked, “Do I go up now?” She smiled and lovingly said yes, come on up.

And suddenly… it was happening.

Standing on that stage was surreal. I was nervous — but more excited than anything. I looked out and saw my sister, perfectly placed, grounding me with her presence. I felt so alive. I felt so present. I settled into my body as the sound guy adjusted my mic… and then he walked away.

And there I was.

As nervous as I was, there was something familiar about it, like I’d done it before — maybe because of all the preparation, or maybe because my body finally trusted the moment. I was fully in my body. I shared my intention. I sang and played from my heart.

It wasn’t perfect. But it was me.

Raw. Real. Honest. Authentic.

I didn’t set out for this to become a deeper embodiment of Just BE — but that’s exactly what it was. Me allowing myself to be fully seen. Me honoring my perfectly imperfect self. Me fulfilling a lifelong dream. Me healing old wounds around not feeling safe, not feeling seen.

I DID IT!

Standing there with my guitar — my fears, my inner child, my voice, my heart — shining in a way I never had before, I felt something complete. Something deeply comfortable.

I said YES.

And the Universe responded in ways that touched the deepest parts of my soul.

I am forever grateful.

And I am committed to continuing to say yes — to the unknown, to expansion, to loving myself fully, and to allowing myself to Just BE.

With so much love and gratitude,
Jill