Saturday, August 25, 2012
Sean Rowe's The Salesman and the Shark. He was self-conscious about voice and would erase tapes with his voice on them, leaving only the music. He has a new album with his gorgeous voice all through. Researching background for the novella I'm writing, this morning I googled at-risk children. Link to link traveling, I found a reference to adult children of narcissistic parents (I am one) and read that a daughter who hasn't sorted this stuff out will go from bad relationship to bad relationship looking for a powerful person to grant her voice. I have to grant myself voice. I have to be the powerful person who gives me what I need. That's what I'm mulling, battling and stumbling through. It is a compelling journey. An old soul can be just a slow learner. A woman once read a brooch I have. She said she saw an old woman on the ice, a tribal leader, but she could not tell her whole truth. She said this while holding her own throat tightly. I had written a story about a shaman on the ice, a tribal leader. I thought it was a made-up story. The woman who saw the elder on the ice said it was me. What strikes me now is not the idea of past lives, but a tribal leader not being able to tell her whole truth. If it was a past life, then I've been stifling my truth for lifetimes. I guided a Share Circle in June about using voice. It was scary, but I did it. Since June, I receive at least one message about using voice per day. I don't think I've got the lesson learned yet. And I don't know what the Source wants me to do. But I'm observing, and trying, and that's the best I can offer just now. The change from then to now is that I am excited about what I'll find, what depth of me I'll discover, what I have to say that may be needed in the world. That is awesome. Perhaps that is the lesson. We have choice. We have free will. We can grant ourselves voice, and then use our voices to make our world more loving, more truthful.