Singing loudly and not hating what you love.

First thing in the morning, I’m howling. To the tunes of Cardi B and Sumi Jo, I’m taking my throat for a morning drive. If nothing else it’s going to be the harshest sound that I’m going to hear all day. Everyone who heard the noise was disturbed (they let me know), and I’ve learned not to care, because I discovered that I’ve since started to yield a bigger voice and it’s already having an effect on my life. All of a sudden people stopped asking me to repeat what I’ve just said, which was nice indeed. I don’t know what prompted my desire to start singing, maybe the desire was always there and I was just too good at ignoring it. I was a pro at ignoring myself as it turned out. There was this persistent voice that was telling me that what I liked did not mean shit, until recently I didn’t even have the courage to question, “Why not?” That was just how things were.

Something told me to sing, and it was getting louder. That must be the new voice in my head and I am slowly getting to trust that new voice. It tells me that what I like is not shit, it tells me that even though I failed so many times, at so many things, those experiences are not meaningless, that I am not meaningless. I fight myself and others harder to let that voice speak and get heard. It was hard, taking responsibility for oneself was so unexpectedly hard. You have to get to know who this person is, you have to be OK with the history this person brings, the mistakes this person has made and is making. It’s about compassion, it’s about dignity, it’s about courage. It takes work to really love oneself.

This is the way things are now. Do I wish to arrive here sooner? No, I don’t. For having that thought discredits the journey. I’m neither old, nor I’m young. I marvel at the younger generations who are adding their own voices to the melody and I know they are the best. I’m watching the older generations who sometimes appear to be as lost as a helpless child and I hope we’re all learning their lessons. The time spent agonizing and being confused is all worth it if we don’t give up. As it is, I’m glad that I’m singing badly and I don’t mind that it might get heard from time to time.

Happy Easter.

easter egg

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