I was recently asked “What does your true voice sound like, the one deep down inside?”  Well, its hard to say because for one thing, it’s all mumbled up, constantly wandering and wondering about in my head until it either wants to scream or go to bed. Truth be told, I didn’t know I even had one until I was half way to ninety so its change has been dramatic. As a child, our kitchen table was not a place budding with curiosities and provocative musings.  On the contrary.  Short, polite responses coupled with proper manners was the state of those gatherings.  My voice began to fill with questions about anything and everything. Nothing scientific or profound.  It was all really quite simple. I just wanted to know about the why of the things we did and the how people felt about it all. Yet somewhere along the line, my voice turned from idle curiosity to begging and pleading only to become a pest to be swatted and squashed.  As I grew, I  learned the hard way that there was no stability behind my voice. How could there be if it was standing in desperation? “No” “Its not proper” or “Enough” was all that was heard. The tone of those responses became a key trigger to immediately squelching any particle of thoughts that may have been percolating.   Frankly, it’s kind of a miracle I even got through school, college or any part of graduate school.  When called upon, my mind would just freeze and melt into crazy making monkey mind. Panic attacks would ensue. Time and time again I turned those tones into something solid.

So my voice has been frozen and as it thaws it is learning to find its roots in the wisdom of my gut. Its part of the surrendering thing. I have discovered that I feel most heard when I am feeling no pressure at all and just speak from my heart. There’s no agenda with my heart.,,it just is.  It’s maybe why my dear friend, who knows me so well, told me that I must write to unblock my heart chakra? Has my lack of knowing my own voice been a culprit in this coverup? Am I still being triggered by perceiving others inflections as cutting me down before even a thought is uttered? Am I still working up courage to be heard? Rats….I think that must be.  No wonder I have a hard time finding my voice. It’s been jumbled in with all sorts of baggage. It’s time to remember I am not a little girl any more. If I can remember this, I need not worry about how I wish or feel to be most heard…I can just be me….Lis

You don’t have to act crazy anymore— We all know you are good at that.

Now retire, my dear,

From all that hard work you do 

Of bringing pain to your sweet eyes and heart.

Look in a clear mountain mirror-

See the Beautiful Ancient Warrior

And the Divine elements

You always carry inside

That infused this Universe with sacred Life

so long ago 

and join you eternally

With all Existence….       

                                                                                                         Hafiz

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