I am finding my own voice. Seems ludicrous that I shouldn’t know my own voice since I’ve been writing for more than 30 years, and don’t you know there is a constant chatter going on in my head all the time? However, we live in a period where the volume of others is at maximum. We also live in a time that fails to understand the importance of silence, of loneliness, of not having something stuck in one’s ears all the time.
For me it has been necessary to actually silence the world for a while. The requirement for quiet has come after several years of incredible life-changer choices and experiences. I know that there are those who feel that I’ve become rude or that I’ve abandoned my duties, but I know this is not the case. It has not been an easy choice to opt for silence, but it is the only way I’ve been able to come to this point of just starting to sort out my own thoughts, put them through a sifter and find out which ones are dust and which ones are poppy seeds. Listening to silence has been the most instrumental tool in finding my own voice.
The Storyteller's Orchard where organic writing grows.
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