*Editor’s Note: This piece is part of a series—lucky you. Head to the author’s profile to continue reading or click here for chapter 1.
“Well, now what am I supposed to do?” I muttered to myself. I’m sitting here typing again. This time it’s not 6:00 a.m. It’s evening. There is still chattering and playing in my home. Every few minutes one of my daughters wanders into the room with me. The mom of a house seems to be a lot like the kitchen in the house. Everyone comes and needs something whether they really need something or not. At times, a welcome distraction. But I’m behind. I’m supposed to be tracking down my voice.
Waylon Lewis, founder of Elephant Journal, said we are to write everyday. I have. As we write everyday, our voice will also come out, among so much else. Some of it will be horrible. Some of it may be genius. Most will fall somewhere in the middle.
Living authentically and writing with voice seem to be the same thing. We are born pure. As we grow, we become conditioned by our families and society to think within social context. We learn to follow directives, follow trends, and sometimes even join bandwagons for that season’s winning team. Constant noise from outside opinions, judgements, the news, social media…
How do we sort through all that?
Quiet. Meditation. Listening.
Clarity of voice is found within so we can rise above. The Chopra Center Center says to find your voice, we should do the following:
- Go to where you can find quiet and be comfortable while sitting.
- Set an intention. Be specific.
- Close eyes. Begin to breathe consciously. Breathe deeply in through the nose and out through the mouth.
- Focus on your breathe. If your mind wanders, gently call it back.
- Repeat your intention. Be open.
- Continue to focus on your breath. Use mantra if it helps you to keep your thoughts at bay. Do this for around 10 minutes.
- Open your eyes and and check in with yourself. How do you feel?
- Check in again with your intention to see if anything reveals itself.
- Write if you would like to.
Hmm. I often try. I also often peek open one eye to check for signs of enlightenment and genuine authenticity. I try again. I close my eyes to greet the black. I take a deep breath in and breathe out. I’m going to be specific this time. “I’m looking for you, Voice. Come on back. Let’s play.”
The door opens a crack. I look a little too quickly and it shuts tight again. I stay calm and start talking about when we were little, my voice and me. “Do you remember the white rain boots?” I begin. “I think we were only five. Do you remember when we were walking around the farm in the rain with them? You were singing. You were making up songs and jumping in every single puddle. We were delighted in getting the white all muddy and then washing it off in the next puddle.”
I hear a giggle. I reach my hand to the door handle again, but this time my hand goes right through. I pull my hand back in surprise. I try to feel the door and my hand goes through. I reach through up to my elbow, my shoulder… I take a deep breath and step through the door.
I look down and notice I have no body. It’s white here. I am awareness and nothing else. A little girl is in the distance. I move closer and see that she has long brown hair and white rain boots. An image of puddles, mud, and trees have formed around her and she’s playing in the puddles and singing. I smile. Is this little girl my voice? Has she been here the whole time? At age five? I think about my 35 year old body sitting in my home typing at my computer screen. I turn back to the little girl. “Hi. I say. Can I play with you?”
She looks up at me. Blue eyes with green. She smiles and nods. Suddenly, I am her.
Like a child
With eyes full of wonder
To see life as it is
By world views
Step into a new land
As life gifts it to you
Meet the moment
With pure curiosity
To be fully aware of its light