When I Took Singing Lessons — And What They Taught Me About Myself
- Nicholas Northwood
- May 26
- 4 min read
From the Desk of Lord Northwood
May 26th, Breaking old molds, changing the song, and rewriting the story.
In life, often without realizing it, we can find that we are the greatest obstacle standing in the way of our own personal improvement. Without meaning to, we define ourselves as one thing or another — closing doors to further growth before we even realize it. For years, I saw myself as a writer, later as an actor, identifying solely with these roles. It’s easier to reinvent yourself when you’re young — when you change schools, or move to a new city — but as you age and plant roots, becoming “settled,” it becomes much harder.
Henry David Thoreau once said we should not be defined by “the emotional corpse of yesterday,” and Ralph Waldo Emerson famously declared, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” Both ideas have stuck with me as true guides, reminding me to shed self-imposed limitations and embrace change.
During my time at college, I had an informal relationship with someone musically inclined. Wanting to impress them, I decided to take singing lessons. I’ll admit, when I was much younger, I had a brief, fleeting dream of becoming a famous singer — though it was never a serious ambition. With a modest amount of money saved from the allowance my parents gave me for everyday expenses, I sought out lessons. The woman I found as my teacher was brilliant — warm, kind, and deeply patient. Her guidance extended far beyond vocal technique; the lessons she taught me about music ended up applying to life itself.
After several weeks, she asked me how I saw myself. What was I majoring in? I told her I saw myself as a writer, majoring in English. She said she didn’t know that — all she knew me as was “Nick the singer.” To her, I was just a singer, a student by proximity to the university, but above all, a singer. That moment stuck with me because, on the streets outside, no one knew I was a writer or a singer. People might assume I was a student because of my youth, but they knew nothing else about me. When I stepped into her studio, I was simply a singer, and nothing more. It made me realize something powerful: I could be anything I wanted. Just like Thoreau and Emerson taught, I was not bound by yesterday’s self-definition. All I had to do was decide.
My goal was modest — to be passable as a singer, to sound pleasant enough to avoid driving people away, never to be famous or exceptional. After a year of lessons, I believe I was close to that goal.
Then, two years later, an unexpected opportunity arose. An affluent individual in the music industry contacted me and invited me to Los Angeles. I suspect their initial interest had a layer of attraction, but they were respectful, kind, and professional. They provided further musical tutelage and treated me with a dignity I deeply appreciated.
Between these two teachers, I learned lessons that are worth sharing, not just for aspiring singers, but for anyone wanting to grow:
Breathing is everything. To sing well, you must breathe correctly. Your whole body must work in harmony — your mouth open enough to propel the air, your lungs expanding like balloons to carry the breath needed for pitch and tone.
Focus your voice. When singing, do not scatter your voice everywhere. Like a conversation, fix your attention on a specific point and direct your voice there. I can’t help but wonder if this is why music testers sit center audience — most singers naturally aim for that sweet spot, to sound pleasant to as many as possible.
Mimicry is key. Beginners often try to swallow an entire song whole, but children learn to speak by repeating what they hear, piece by piece. Singers should break songs into parts, listen, repeat, and gradually master each segment before moving on.
Walk before you run. First, pronounce the words as if speaking conversationally. If you can’t say the lyrics clearly, no amount of singing will matter. Clarity is king.
One size does not fit all. Just because an artist sings a song one way doesn’t mean it’s the only way. If a song feels out of reach, change the key or pitch. I often found covers sung by voices similar to my own and used them as my guide until I reached the sound I wanted.
Practice makes perfect. Like muscle mass, if you don’t keep exercising your voice, you lose it. Consistency is non-negotiable.
Because of all this, I believe there is very little I cannot accomplish. No skill is truly beyond reach if one has the willpower and determination. Break any challenge into smaller parts, be patient and diligent, and never lose focus.
What started as a passing fancy — a desire to impress someone else — ended up profoundly shaping my life. I can’t imagine now living without the knowledge I gained through singing lessons. It reminds me how important it is to remain open-minded. If you don’t try new things and push yourself to reinvent who you are, you risk becoming rooted — stuck — never discovering your true potential.
So here’s my Northwood truth: don’t let yesterday’s version of yourself be the final word. Step into new rooms, try new roles, and sing your own song, no matter how humble it may seem. Faithfully,
Lord Nicholas Northwood
