Tomorrow I will put the key of despair into the lock of
apathy, then turn the knob of mediocrity slowly and open the gates of
despondency.
My voice is missing. I try to speak, but it's a whisper. The
louder I try to talk the quieter my voice comes out. This is frustrating.
Maddening. But eventually I stop trying. Or give up. Or shrivel inside. Or boil
inside. Or lose confidence that what I have to say is worth saying. Or that I
can speak. Or that I should speak. But, thankfully, there are those I can still
communicate with. Those who understand. Those who say that I should speak, that
what I have to say is worth speaking. That I can speak. That I need to go and
find that voice and put it firmly back inside my body and my head and move
forward. Move on.
My voice that lets me out of myself. My voice
that....that....I'm struggling for words to describe what I mean. My voice that
is ME.
So much of ME is suppressed. For one reason or another so
many of my dreams and desires and ideas and thoughts are put in a back room
with the firmly door closed. I guess too
much of that practice is not healthy for mind or body. THINGS start to crawl
out from under the door. Nasty smelly things. Creepy crawly things. Things that
shouldn't be part of me. Things that I don't want to be part of me. Things I
don't want associated with me. Sometimes the door slips open, usually when it
has been opened to throw something else in, and all sorts of things tumble out
and overwhelm the unsuspecting outside the door.
There have been times in my life where I just threw open the
door and cleaned out that back room. It's not necessarily easy or fun, but once
it is done and I have found the important things once again and thrown out all
the decayed or rotten things it has been easy to move forward. Sometimes on a
completely different path. I am trying
to get the courage to tackle that back room again. It is time for me to find
the important things, dust them off, and bring them back out into the light.
But how? Those dreams and thoughts and ideas are a bit light sensitive after
being locked in a back room for years. My voice is scratchy from not talking
and not being heard. Are those avenues of my brain grown over?
How has my life changed and what is still relevant?
And then there is the balancing act. How do I clean out the
back room while still maintaining the things that must be maintained? I can't
magically and immediately be in a different situation where I can speak and my
voice will be heard. Where I have constructive things to say and where my words
are words from which action flows. Where I matter - as a person, as a thinker,
as a doer, as me. Where I can Be Me. And Me is of value.
I'm trying to start small. Recognise that I'm worth hearing.
Admit that I can be heard.
Acknowledge that it's important for me to speak.
That I must find a way.
And I will.
I will be Me.
I will.
BE ME
Oh well
c'est la vie
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