Finding my voice

I wrote that phrase in my gratitude journal today, and then realized that it means so many different things. There’s this voice, the writing voice… finding it and letting it loose on the world, not being afraid to share it and see what happens next. There’s risk in that, you know.

Then there’s finding the voice inside that has things to say. I get lost sometimes, forget who I am. In those times I sometimes go years without singing, and this is really what I want to write about:

I think it may have started with Debbie Boone’s “You Light Up My Life.” I had a Mr. Microphone, did you?   There was something about the register of “You Light Up My Life;” I think her voice might be lower than most pop stars I’d heard… something about that song had me feel singing in my body in a way I’d never known before.

And then for years I sang and sang and sang. I never wanted to give my life over to it, but I love to sing for people. Those years when I am lost to myself, I don’t sing — not even in the shower. Sometimes I forget what it’s like.

Lately I’ve been singing a lot, though, and I wish that I could bottle it or share the feeling with you. Today I stood in front of a mirror singing, trying to think of how to write what it’s like, to share this… where is the resonance, how would I describe the sound when it’s just right and good? How could I convey the surprise when that beauty just comes out — just walking down the street?! What an awesome built-in entertainment system! It still surprises me. Sometimes I sing the same verse or line over and over, just all by myself, because I’m surprised I can do some little trill, a tone, a particular sound. It’s like slowly rolling a piece of fine dark chocolate around in your mouth for a while, savoring its rich 70% cocoa goodness.

This must be what it’s like when little toddling boys find their penises. I wish I could share. That could explain a lot of disconcerting playground behavior.

DISCLAIMER/ADDENDUM: People have reacted in funny ways to these last few lines. I have several friends who are currently occupied with their 2-year-old little boys. Many of them tell funny stories… one recently posted a blog about a little boy taking off all his clothes at a public playground… a sort of “Look what I have!” expression. That’s what I was thinking about — nothing x-rated or grown up, just that innocent wonder at our our physical beings.

{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

  1. becky,

    I know that feeling, although I have it on skates, or wizzing down a hill at 50mph on a bike, and trying to write and describe it is often an excellent way of appriciating it for yourself…. to describe singing, to describe the mechanical aspects of holding a tone in your voice (something I am quite far from) is one kind of victory but to describe how it FEELS, that is the victory within you, and joy, is what matters…

    there is how singing feels, and there is how singing makes becky feel.. separate items that blend in wonderful ways..

    and about penises, well, being a young boy discovering that is kinda cool, kind of frightening too, cause you have NO CLUE what is going on… but I always thought that the mature woman discovering the nuclear huge brain melting orgasm with a loving partner is a much more powerful & moving thing than little boy angst….

    I am SO looking forward to seeing you in a few weeks… I wish J and I could help with mufasa…

  2. becky,

    I know that feeling, although I have it on skates, or wizzing down a hill at 50mph on a bike, and trying to write and describe it is often an excellent way of appriciating it for yourself…. to describe singing, to describe the mechanical aspects of holding a tone in your voice (something I am quite far from) is one kind of victory but to describe how it FEELS, that is the victory within you, and joy, is what matters…

    there is how singing feels, and there is how singing makes becky feel.. separate items that blend in wonderful ways..

    and about penises, well, being a young boy discovering that is kinda cool, kind of frightening too, cause you have NO CLUE what is going on… but I always thought that the mature woman discovering the nuclear huge brain melting orgasm with a loving partner is a much more powerful & moving thing than little boy angst….

    I am SO looking forward to seeing you in a few weeks… I wish J and I could help with mufasa…

  3. heee heee!!! I love this post. So beautiful and stunning. It’s so interesting, these things that flow, each of our own voice. Writing truth is what flows out of me and sometimes it feels so bizarre and surreal and strong… not even coming out of me. The reason I giggled was at the end about little boys finding their penises – funny that you would wander to that!

    Oh, and about Mufasa, I think that just remember stages of conversation – 1) listen/express 2) remember/forget 3) succeed/fail, etc. So keep dialoging and dialoging with everyone about all the options. It takes a lot to generate something and he’s a big boy, very well loved so surely something will come of it. I personally like the idea of someone caring for him for two months and then you sending him over. How could he NOT be part of your adventure?!

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