Since the beginning of this walk, I have been trying to find my voice -- the written one and the one which no one ever seems to hear. I am grateful to have a mentor in Sharon Murfin, who, through offering me vocal exercises that I've done for one hour every day on the road, gentle support and love, is helping me find my speaking -- and dare I say, one day, my singing -- voice on this road and beyond.
What Should I Tell Them?
This is my voice
EEE
It is hard to hear
AY
I am too frequently asked
AH
What did you say?
OH
And, I am not sure
OO
When I shout back
EEE, AY, AH, OH, OO
If I should tell them
EEEAYEEEAYEEEAY
I'm just a low talker
OOAHOOAHOOAH
Or, the truth
AHEEEAHEEEAHEEE
My voice has its reasons for not being heard
Soundings
Don’t worry, don’t worry
No one can hear you out here
You are alone for a mile in every direction
It is too cold for farmers
And in these fields there are only dogs and birds listening
They — the dogs and birds — want to assure you
That you are free, here, to open your mouth
You are free to let loose the sounds, sacred or profane,
You spend so much energy holding in
Do it — let your belly out with the in-breath
Pull it in and up with the out breath
And allow whatever tone or vibration or ruckus within
To move up from your heart and flow from your mouth
Only you will feel the rising of your diaphragm
Reaching up to the very top of your chest
Only you will feel it lift you, body and soul, as one
Making space for the work of not holding back
No one can here you out here
No one can hear the sound of your intention
No one can hear your voice crashing open
As you walk swiftly alongside the sunflower fields
So turn now to the drying stocks in the fields
They are eager to receive your soundings
Let go, let go, let go, let go, let go!
The birds, the dogs, the stalks would sing if they could
Send them your loudness, your lost tones
They will hold each pipe like a prayer
You are free to give it all to them
Every sound you are afraid to make
Yes, yes, give them the whole song of yourself
Every word you hesitate to speak
Every lyric you are sing under your breath
All of the beautiful, horrible, holy noise inside you.
Taking Soundings
From above or below
stored in deep water
depth is measured by echo
as sounds bounce off watery surfaces.
Are there surfaces to sound?
Trolling for depth
send down your line baited with intention
into the body, into the sea of yourself
and let the manta of your support
wave, alerted, swept by oxygen to rise.
No need to pull in the belly or squeeze
the bellows. Rather, as Mary Oliver
said, let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves, this ocean-breathing,
this receiving, this ribbon riding outward.
Healthy and sound
awakened, strong and free from error
we take sound like bathing on the shore,
we take the cure in this mountain
sanitarium with the…
What a poignant irony. One person who I feel has so much worth hearing struggles to find her voice for the telling. When I ask you to "say again" it is not in annoyance but that I truly want to hear what you have to share---expressions that are important, kind, insightful, touching, funny.