This past week I had the amazing experience of attending Camp A cappella at Wright State University in Dayton, Ohio. This is my third year attending the camp, and it's always one of the best weeks out of the year. Getting to spend five full days with people who are so inspiringly passionate about music, leaves my heart happy and fulfilled.

This year, in particular, I had a specific moment that reminded me of music's power, a moment that urged me to pledge to myself that I will never stop singing.

In rehearsal yesterday, as we were prepping for our final performance, we decided to shut off the lights and close our eyes while singing. By doing this, we hoped to connect ourselves on a deeper level to the song and really perform it as if no one was watching, in our truest form.

While performing with our eyes closed was powerful in itself, the exercise did not end there.

My group, upon realizing that there was a sense of emotion missing from our performance, decided to discuss what our song meant to us. We all picked one word to describe how our song, ("Let Me Love You" by DJ Snake featuring Justin Bieber) made us feel.

Going around the circle and hearing the varying responses to this question was eye-opening. Some people felt sad, others felt hopeful, others passionate.

Even greater than that, we had our soloists explain in more detail their interpretation of the song. While one felt a sense of celebration of the good times in the song contrasted by realizing things will never be the same, another felt a hopefulness and determination to make things work, and yet another explained how she wanted to sing the song to herself because self-love is something she struggles with. It was amazing to see the contrast between people's understandings of songs based on one's personal experiences.

This conversation on the emotionality and meaning behind the song reminded me that music is so much greater than the technicalities of staying in tune or on tempo the whole time.

When we choose to make music, especially when making music with others, we have a choice: we can aim for perfection in terms of musicality, or we can aim for performing the song in its purest form.

When we all explained how the song made us feel and when we heard our soloist's interpretations, we were putting ourselves to a task: find how the song makes us feel and make it our goal to convey that emotion to the audience.

In the end, music is meant to be an experience that moves people, that makes them feel something.

After having this conversation, we set ourselves out to one final task: take what we had just discussed and again, sing the song with our eyes closed, yet we could open our eyes when we felt truly connected to the song. In doing so, however, our director urged us to look around the room and sing to our fellow group members.

As we began to sing the song, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I have thought about this moment a lot since it happened, and I cannot explain why I started crying or the extent to which this moment moved me. I eventually opened my eyes and sang to all the beautiful people I had the pleasure of making music with.

I realize I've turned this article into a bit of a narrative, but I think it was necessary for you, readers, to fully understand the process into which I came to understand the power of music.

I have never felt more connected than while singing that song, feet planted firmly on the ground, the rest of my body free and flowing to the beat.

There was such a sense of emotion and passion and community in that room. I have never felt more beautiful, either. I didn't care how I looked, if my hair was all over the place, my entire focus was on simply feeling the song and conveying emotion.

In a world that is so constantly busy, taking the time to feel, though overwhelming, was one of the most gratifying experiences.

Music is about connection: connecting to yourself, connecting to those you make the music with, connecting with the audience.

A performance can be off pitch, but if it makes the audience feel something, or if the performance means something to you, then, to me, that is more than enough. We could have been off tempo the entire time we sang the song during rehearsal and it wouldn't have mattered.

In the end, when it comes to music, what I will remember is the feeling of community, joy, and passion. That's what it comes down to. That is what truly matters.

Music has always been something that brings me so much happiness, and yesterday's moment was just what I needed to remind me that the power of music is something I need to make a more conscious effort to include in my life.

Music is so much greater than hitting the right notes. It's feeling connected to something greater than yourself and sharing that with others.

Whether you are a performer or audience member, I urge you to really see music as a means of connection, as a means of getting in touch with one's emotions. Yesterday for sure gave me that opportunity and I couldn't be more grateful.

Talk soon,

Sam