In My Voice

For a few weeks I've been thinking about my voice.
I don't know how many people think about this, but I do know I haven't
ever actually had a conversation about my voice...until tonight.
And I'm someone people share EVERYTHING with and since the topic of voice
hasn't come up, I don't think many people consider what their voice means.

I've been thinking about it more deeply lately, because I'm in the final
weeks of yoga teacher training and I've had to pay more attention to the way
my voice sounds in different rooms. The way it projects.  The way I use my words.  My tone. 

With this intense weekend of asana's, also came a decent amount of meditation
time...which has actively allowed me think about my teaching comments
in a loving space.  I appreciate that.

So--last night when I got home and BD called, I was telling him about
my classes and meditating.  His words: "So really--I don't get it.  What can you
accomplish by meditation?"  I am sure this morning that him asking me was
a continuation of my discovery.

First I explained to him how difficult it is for most people to sit for more than 5 minutes.
We are going to do this together this week.  I'll be interested in how that goes...but then
I told him about my voice "discoveries."

I explained that my first voice memory was when I was about 4 or 5.  I barely recall this, but have heard the story many times in my life--I was at church, singing with my sunday school class...and when I say singing I mean really LOUD.  You know the image..the one little kid singing in their own space, not worrying about anyone else--just being in it.  Sweet thought--I know I enjoy those kid moments as a parent, but as a child I know that people were laughing--kindly, but I didn't understand that.   Voice issue 1.

Time continues.  I live in an all-boy neighborhood.  Nothing says finding your voice and losing your voice with boys/brothers.  I'm sure the same can be said with girls, but I have my memory with boys.

Then cheerleading.
Yes--oh sigh, I've come to terms with my cheerleading years--but if you knew me you just wouldn't see me as one...anyhow--my first year of cheering we went to a cheer camp with hundreds of girls at a local college.  I was in 7th grade. I hadn't planned on being a cheerleader at all--I just tried out on a fluke and here I was.  The cheer coaches were going around teaching us a cheer and it was making me nervous.  I couldn't remember the movements with the words as quickly as I wanted.  The coach came up to me and told me she couldn't hear me.
Cheer louder.
Still she couldn't hear me.
So what does she do but demand that the hundreds of other girls do not cheer and I am
to do the cheer alone.
My voice only.
I did it.
I don't have fond memories of that moment though.

Time continues.
See Bad Relationship post.
Voice issue 4.

Then it hit me in the shower last night that as my marriage started to
dissolve, I lost my voice in that too.  Not in the beginning--but by the end
I was too tired to speak up.
To work.
To fight.
To cry.
I was being who I was--but without my voice.
Without being heard.

Now--I am finding the thoughts behind my voice.
Behind the strength.
Realizing when I am teaching, working, laughing...that when my voice
is clear and strong is when I am the most confident.
I feel my voice in my heart.
And when it is soft, I am either insecure or truly exhausted.
Sometimes I just am too tired to speak.
But finding the truth behind those moments.

In my voice.
XOXOXOX