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About hearing voices…

Yes, let’s talk about hearing voices…And (just a bit) about RAISING our voices and being countercultural! 

Over the past 8 months or so, I’ve been painstakingly recovering and republishing all my blog posts from 2004–2019. It’s a long story — why they left my website in the first place. And though some might argue the relevance of bringing them back at all, for me, they’re like an archive, a written history that documents much of my thought and certainly my growth for nearly 18 years.

As I been plodding away at this monumental task, I’ve noticed something: what I was talking about at the beginning and along the way is what I’m still talking about today. 

Yes, my writing has changed and strengthened. My viewpoints have expanded. My belief systems have pretty dramatically changed. And my life over those years? More transitions than I can possibly count! Still, in the midst — underneath it all — there are themes, patterns, questions, and a “voice” that has persisted throughout.

I’m seeing this literally in front of me, but I’m convinced I’m not unique.

If you could recall and recover where your mind has gone over the years, you would see the same: themes, patterns, and questions that have persisted, stayed, lingered. You would discover the “voice” that has been speaking to you all along — whether you’ve known, heard, or acknowledged it — or not. 

So let’s definitely talk about hearing voices!

WHAT THE VOICE KEEPS SAYING TO ME:

I’ll certainly not get it completely right and there’s FAR more for me to hear and learn, but were I to take a stab at articulating what this “voice” has been saying to me all this time — yes, through the blog posts; but far, far more, it would sound something like this:

You are enough. You are not too much. You don’t have to work any harder to be good or worthy or understood. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are wise. You are loved.

[I’d bet money that the voice within you has been saying something incredibly similar. I’ll get to that in a few paragraphs.]

It’s what I’ve been writing about on my own behalf and yours — over and over and over again. Not always blatant, often hidden between the lines, but infinitely present, nonetheless — speaking, thrumming, singing, calling me home to myself.

Here’s the thing:

I have not been hearing this voice (or writing about it) for so long because it’s distinct, unique, or special to me. Not at all! As I look back, I can see that this deeper voice within has been attempting to express itself, to make itself manifest in my life, because it’s what is TRUE. 

Which is why I’m pretty sure it’s the same voice that you hear — that you’ve always heard in one way or another — that will never stop speaking within you.

WHAT THE VOICE INVITES:

The invitation now — for you and me both — is to let it speak, let it drive, let it lead, let its truth be undisputed, accepted, fiercely claimed, and fully trusted. No longer doubted. No longer whispering. No longer being shouted over. No longer silent. And certainly no longer unknown or unheard.

The invitation now — for you and me both — is to acknowledge what IS true, what’s always been true, and then live it.

Would another quick review help?

You are enough. You are not too much. You don’t have to work any harder to be good or worthy or understood. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are wise. You are loved.

You definitely don’t need 18 years of my blog posts to find and hear the “voice” for yourself. Weave together the threads of your life that reveal this TRUTH: where it has been whispering, crying, beating within, longing to be heard and trusted, shouting, and most-definitely showing up. YES, PLEASE! MORE, PLEASE!

As a woman, you live in a world that is adamantly committed to you NOT listening to this voice. not believing it as truth. Because, quite frankly, if you did start listening, believing, trusting, and living this truth truth (that IS already and always yours), everything would fall apart: patriarchy, capitalism, colonialism . . . Yes, please!

There’s still more that I hear the voice saying when I look back, look within, and pay attention. It’s for me, to be sure — and for you:

Now, rise up. Trust yourself. Go deeper. Let go. Listen closer still. 

Once we’ve heard what’s true, then we’re called to live it.

Rise up. Stand up. Speak up. Don’t hold back.

Trust yourself. Your intuition, your wisdom, that know-that-you-know-that-you-know voice within.

Go deeper. Into your own stories, into your questions and doubts, into the conversations that will invite the kind of transformation and life that you desire and deserve.

Let go. Surrender. Open your clenched fists. Loosen your grip on others, on expectations, on demands, on control, on your endless self-critique. Breathe deep.

Listen closer still. Drop below the surface of the raging river that is your mind and listen to your heart — the still waters underneath, the voice that’s always been there, the truth — period, the end.

And did I mention?
You are enough. You are not too much. You don’t have to work any harder to be good or worthy or understood. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are wise. You are loved.

Now, rise up. Trust yourself. Go deeper. Let go. Listen closer still.

3 ways to be fear-defying in writing and life

When I look back over 17 years of blogging, here’s what stands out to me:

My voice has fluctuated, depending on the level of fear I’ve felt at any given time.

I’ll admit: “fear” sounds too strong, somehow, but when I boil it down, that IS what’s left.

What I wrote about when I was still married and still part of the church, is far different than what I said once outside both those structures (and strictures). I can see and remember how afraid I was to express my doubts, my questions, my grief, and the many places in which I was feeling more anger than hope. I was afraid I’d be misunderstood, that I’d go too far, that I’d be too much.

What I wrote about in my 40’s and 50’s was different than what I write today — now in my 60’s. And though I could go into all of the details and themes inherent here, suffice it to say, I was afraid I’d be misunderstood, that I’d go too far, that I’d be too much.

This looking back has “forced” me to track the circumstances and seasons in which I held back, hid even, because of fear — all of which was expressed (or not) in my writing. And as I’m inventorying every bit of this, I’m not only getting clearer about fear’s presence, but angrier. Not at myself, but at fear itself.

As women on this planet, we have been conditioned to be afraid, to be far more concerned with how others perceive and experience us, than to hold fast to (even fight on behalf of) who we know-that-we-know-that-we-know ourselves to be.

That needs to change.

In If Women Rose Rooted, Sharon Blackie says:

To become [one] who can express her wrath rather than her rage, and warn of the dire consequences of ignoring it, is to have stepped fully into your own power as a woman.

And in Untamed, Glennon Doyle says that women need to be “full of themselves.”

What we need right now is more women who have detoxed themselves so completely from the world’s expectations that they are full of nothing but themselves. What we need are women who are full of themselves.

A few chapters later she says this:

What the world needs is masses of women who are entirely out of control.

We must, you and me both, consider who we’d be and how we’d be, if fear weren’t present. Yes, in writing. In relationships. In our choices. In our work.

We must, you and me both, be crystal clear on (and done with) everything that has perpetuated its presence.

We must, you and me both, begin and continue to name our wrath over our rage.

We must, you and me both, step fully into our power as women. No more holding back. No more hiding. No more fear. Done.

*****

Here are three provocative questions to consider that serve as a helpful start and then some in this fear-defying, world-changing work:

  1. Who would you be right now (and what would you write) if you expressed your rage (at fear and all that perpetuates) it instead of ignoring it?
  2. Who would you be right now (and what would you write) if you didn’t pay any attention at all to anyone’s expectations of you?
  3. Who would you be right now (and what would you write) if you were entirely out of control (at least as far as the world is concerned)?

I won’t speak for you (though I’m guessing you feel the same): The answers to these three questions define how and what I want to write; more, how I want to live and who I want to be: unbound by fear, unmoved by others’ expectations, and completely unrestrained (even out of control).

May it be so.

12 Years of Blogging

I find it almost impossible to believe that 12 years have passed since I meekly created a WordPress site and began typing/publishing my thoughts, later my very heart.

12 years ago I would have never dared articulate my deeper feelings; it all seemed way too risky, way too fraught with consequence, way too vulnerable. Still and clearly, something in me wanted and needed to at least begin, to try, to speak (even if quietly and almost completely off the radar). If that were not the case, I would have never created the site in the first place. But I did. And I dared – bit by bit, slowly, tentatively, and in less-than-eloquent form to somehow be honest with myself.

When I look back at those early writings, I feel my heart’s ache all over again. Not so much in what was said, but in what was left unsaid. In between the lines I find and recall my every question, doubt, and as-yet unexpressed grief. I look back and recognize just how many of these were yet to grow into full expression and lived experience. Hardly pleasant, all of them; but no less true.

Isn’t that almost always the way of it?

Hindsight…

But there’s this, as well:

When we get closer and closer to our own edge, to the place that is calling us (even begrudgingly) into more strength, more courage, more capacity, and yes, more voice, we tiptoe all the more gingerly. We are afraid that the slightest misstep will cause all manner of disaster to befall. And we pull back. Unless we don’t. Unless, as we look out over that seemingly-treacherous and cavernous ledge, we lean forward. We risk the fall, the bruising, the shattering, the breaking – all on the slight chance that there will be a miracle, a soft landing, the ability to fly, much grace.

What enables the latter?

In my experience, it’s been the scary-but-consistent voicing of my thoughts, feelings, desires, beliefs, doubts, arguments, anger, and fear(s). It’s been the naming, the truth-telling, the achingly-slow movement toward honesty. It’s been being heard. Yes, this:

When we are heard, we are healed.

I do not mean to deny the value in good, self-reflective work. Of course, there is much healing and growth to be gained in the silence of our own minds and hearts. But if these past 12 years have taught me anything (and they have taught me more than I can possibly recount), this rings truest:

When I step out of the shadows (of my own mind, my own secrets, my own hidden stories) and into the light, most of what I fear does not happen; rather, just the opposite. The light remains – and grows. The shadows lessen. And strength surges, restores, and rebuilds.

And why? Because when I speak, when I let myself be heard, when I allow myself to be seen, then and only then do I realize that I am not alone. I never have been, of course. Not really. But when in my hardest, darkest places, you couldn’t convince me of that. Now you can’t convince me otherwise,

Now I know that the tougher the emotion, circumstance, or reality, the more I need to speak, be heard, and be seen.

And I am. Beautifully. Graciously. Kindly. Powerfully. Over and over again.

Not because I’m so amazing – but because those who surround and support and witness and mirror and call and invite and pour me coffee or wine or champagne are!

How would I know any of this if not for this blog? If not for this virtual platform through which one evening, long, long ago, I began to take the smallest and nearly anonymous of steps? If I had not allowed myself to speak, be heard, and be seen? I shudder to think…

So, the takeaways in all of this? Well, there are (at least) two:

The first one is for me: There is further to go, more distance for me to travel, stories yet to tell, darkness yet to expose. That is just the way of it for all of us – always. And being here, staying here, writing here is at least part of what invites more and more of the light (not to mention the miracles, the soft landings, the ability to fly, and the grace) again and again and again.

The second one is for you: May you speak or write or blog or call a friend or send an email or have the conversation that needs to be had. May you recognize that until you step into the light (no matter how tentatively, quietly, or timidly), the shadows remain. And most of all, may you believe this: the shadows are not your home. Then. Now. Ever.

OK. Maybe one more takeaway for us both:

WHEN we step into the light we’ll be seen – and met and surrounded and supported and loved. How can it be otherwise?

Here’s what I know-know-know to be true (learned through 12 years of blogging and MANY more years of life): we are not alone. Ever.

*****

I am profoundly grateful to so many of you – for reading my words (and hearing the many left unsaid, the many housed between the lines), for staying with me and standing by me, for offering me such encouragement over the years, for becoming my dearest and deepest of friends (you know who you are), for helping me, increasingly, to stand in the light – unblinking.

Today: 10 years of Blogging!

10 years ago today, November 15, 2005, I wrote and published my very first blog post.

No one knew but me. And that was enough. Because when I started, that was all that mattered. I needed a space in which I could tell my truth. I found it.

How could I have predicted that this space and telling my truth would push me, compel me, strengthen me, challenge me, and change me as it has? How could I have guessed both have been the vehicle through which I have met some of my forever dearest friends? How could I have anticipated the way in which one small post would turn into 1065 of them (as of today)? And how could I have ever known that for all its evolution, for all my own, that one thing would remain the same? It was then and is still a space in which I tell my truth.

Gratefully, amazingly, miraculously that truth has changed so much over the years! Gratefully, amazingly, miraculously I have, as well.

10 years ago, I was 44.

10 years ago, there was no gray in my hair.

10 years ago, my daughters were 9 and 7.

10 years ago, I had just finished my Masters program.

10 years ago, I had just started a new job.

10 years ago, I was still married – about to celebrate my 13th anniversary.

10 years ago, I had no thought of being a divorcee – or a single mom – or an entrepreneur – or a writer.

10 years ago, I had no conception of subscribers or Notes From Her, or SacredReadings, or SacredConversations, or a SacredMuse App.

10 years ago, I had no idea that I would beprivileged enough to give a TEDx talk or feel so profoundly humbled every single day to work with clients (that I LOVE).

10 years ago, my very first post consisted of only four sentences and 78 words:

I’m always so impressed that people find the time to blog; to write meaningful reflections about their lives, their thoughts, their questions, their musings, their joys, their frustrations. I want to be one of those people too. I have a life, thoughts, questions, musings, joys, and frustrations – and so much more. Maybe this will be a place where I can share those with others and, in the process, begin to understand them better myself. May it be so.

All of this has been so – and then some.

I would be remiss to let this significant marker pass without extending an arms-flung-wide-open embrace to you. The days are long gone in which I write only for me (at least here).

And gratefully, amazingly, miraculously that has transformed me. You have. Thank you.

Here’s to the next 10. *clink*

May it be so.