How I Found My Voice, by George

I thought I could learn about my voice by reading the 26 definitions of “voice” I found on my cell phone’s dictionary app. I know, right? It says that a voice is a set of sounds, and it’s also the power of uttering those sounds. A voice can be still and small, when it belongs to God, or it can be a booming proclamation. Having a voice means that your perspectives have impact, like, “The school board heard our voice and made cultivating a love of learning the top priority.”

Interesting exploration, but I really wanted to learn about my own voice. So to discover more, I imagined learning about my voice through songs. I created titles:

  • Why can’t a man have a still, small voice?
  • I’ve lost my voice, don’t know where I put it
  • My dog, my truck, my voice
  • Sleep talking in my sexy voice just got me fired again
  • Turns out that voice ain’t mine!

Entertaining, but I still hadn’t met my own voice yet. So this time I sent a letter:

Dear Voice,
     Let me introduce myself. I’m the one who thinks, but I sometimes do things without much thought. As you know by now, sometimes I say things without thinking at all.
     Shamefully, I haven’t noticed you mostly, and I definitely haven’t paid you the attention that you deserve.
     So I am writing you today to say I see you, I hear you, and I want to know you better, if you will have me after all these years.

Awhile later, I got back:

Dear George,
     I don’t know what to say. I’ve tried to serve you the best I could, to speak your thoughts and feelings just loudly enough, with the right balance of doubt and certainty, not too proud, no shrinking violet either.
     I have seen you cringe when my words and tones did not land gentle.
     I am glad we can talk.
     Your faithful servant,

So I wrote back:

Dear Voice,
     I don’t think you’re my servant. But I’m not really sure who or what you are either.
     Sometimes I feel you’re weak. Wait, that sounds bad. I don’t feel you’re weak because of you, but because of me. My voice is weak. That’s not much better. Let me start over.
     From an early age, I was trained to feed you doubt and uncertainty.  Respect people’s opinions. See all sides of an argument. Never take a stand.
     When I became a psychiatrist, the lessons continued. Make even crazy things sound rational. Everything makes sense from some point of view. One man’s delusion is another man’s reality.
     How can you make a wise and simple declaration when you have to cite your sources, qualify your perspective and make sure every probability has been described?  
     I make you weak. And now that all can change.
     With regret and hope,

Dear George,
     No hard feelings. I am encouraged. Please allow me to explain.
     A conscious, courageous collaboration is our inheritance, our potential, and our future legacy. As you learn that you’re a Soul, I will trumpet what you find. I will weep your loving sadness, and smile your precious joys.
     I will ever, long and fully faithful, bring forth You in your own voice.
     Your humble and appreciative servant.

My Dear Voice,
     Please, stand! I need you as an equal partner, not a servant. Both you and I are sturdy, kind and tender-hearted. Together we can reach into the fertile darkness, and birth what seeks the light.  
     With adoring gratefulness,

My George,
     As members of the Brave Voice guild.
     Let’s write and sing of better ways,
     How stunning is this world we build!
     If you will have me, I am yours, until the end of days.
     Yours truly,

Dear Voice,
     With all my heart, I do.

George ThompsonComment