It's 4 am in the morning. What is my voice and where do I find it? Why am I even searching for it and why do I feel compelled to write? I have been asking myself these questions for a while now and felt a need to write about it, I have heard much discussion on this topic of finding your voice, and that each one of us has a unique voice that no one else can share with the world. I would say that it's probably safe to assume that 99 percent of the world’s population goes without ever finding their voice or even thinks about it. Is the rice farmer toiling in the paddies in Southeast Asia finding his voice, or the tanker captain out in the North Atlantic, is he trying to discover and share his unique voice? Is the voice a real tangible thing that has to be written or is the voice to some written and played by going through the routines of their daily existence? Is it possible that when I'm standing in line or waiting for the cashier at the grocery store that I am witnessing voices being written and played right in front of me? The need for all of us to express ourselves is displayed in many forms, some written, some sung or painted, and some kept to ourselves.
Some voices are so strong that they catch your attention without having to be heard, like our favorite baseball player when he hits a home run and thousands cheer, his voice is loud and clear and he has just sung out in the way he does best. Is there a need for him to go back to the locker room or later at home to write about this experience, or is he content to have just lived it and accept it for what it was at that moment in time? This I suppose is what makes writers and artists different. There is some inherent desire to not only live the moment but to savor in it and share it with others who may not have been a witness to feel and to be a part of.
I may not understand completely all aspects of creativity or finding your voice but I do understand the complexities of life and the effort that it takes to just get through each day for most of us. These voices are the voices of the masses unheard and not played on the radio, unashamed and pure voices being written just by living and showing up every day in a sometimes uncaring and unforgiving world. These are the voices that intrigue and delight, and other times bring a tear to our eyes, these are the voices that inspire us to write, to paint, or to express our creativity and voice in whatever manner we choose. Tell the story of the baby in the incubator who just wants to live but doesn't know why yet, and tell the story of the terminally ill patient who does not want to die but has accepted fate with grace and dignity. Tell the story of what it felt like when you were told "I love you" by someone, or tell the story of what it felt like when someone said " I don't love you". These are the words, these are the stories, these are the voices to be written, sung, and painted on canvas or with words. These are the voices that I want to hear, see, touch, and feel.
Find your voice, keep writing I am told, this is what I am doing and why I am writing today. This is my voice, these are my words, they might not tell a story but instead they express my thoughts at this precise moment in time at this precise location at this very spot where I sit. This is my reality, and this is my voice. I will keep writing, discovering, and learning to find my voice and when I do maybe one day I will write something that will give someone the same feeling of exuberance or sadness as the baseball player who knocked one out of the park, depending on which team you were rooting for...
Thank you to all who inspire, support, and put up with the insanity. I love you all, you give me the reason to prove to myself that there is more to life than just existing, and that each moment lived and each feeling felt is worth sharing with my own unique voice.
Much Love and Peace
Robert
2016
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