Voice
"Your mind knows only some things. Your inner voice, your instinct, knows everything. If you listen to what you know instinctively, it will always lead you down the right path." ~Henry Winkler
I started out looking for tonight's topic in a poetry-writing book I own. The back is filled with groups of spark words and as my eye caught the word "voice," I knew that was what I wanted to write about. I'm thrilled to have found my quote, primarily because I love Henry Winkler. During my freshman year spring break, my dad and I went to New York City for the week. We lucked into tickets for a show starring Henry Winkler and John Ritter. We also lucked into the fact that it was some sort of charity week on Broadway and all the theaters were doing special fundraisers. For this show, you could get your picture taken with those two gentlemen for $20. I still have the photo, of course.
But back to voice. This quote happens to touch on everything I was hoping to dig into. So it's not only credited to an awesome person, it's a truly lovely bunch of words. In writing, finding your voice means sounding like yourself on the page rather than copying another writer's style. I think that's why journaling can be so helpful in dealing with stress or depression. I'm pretty sure my "writing voice" is the closest thing I have to my instinct sometimes. If I just leave thoughts in my head, it's easier to push them away. But put those thoughts on paper...or the internet. Well, that's another thing entirely. Then they're out there. Exposed. People can see them and have opinions on them. That's terrifying enough to keep some people from doing it at all!
For as long as I can remember I've had the instinct to hold back good news or exciting plans. I mean, I won't even want to write about them. Somewhere down the line I developed the superstition that telling these things, even on paper, will jinx them and cause them to either go away or not happen to begin with. This instinct is closely followed by me blabbing whatever it is I was feeling protective of to most of my family and close friends as soon as possible. Then, when the thing falls through, don't I feel like a silly goose! "I should have kept my mouth shut," I think. "I knew this would happen!" Now, not all of my good news goes south the moment I spread it around. Quite a bit of it follows through. But the times my pessimism wins tend to stand out.
The down side of this tendency is that I now find it hard to trust the good news or good things that come along. I'm always sort of waiting for the shoe to drop. If I do mention something I'm excited about, it is not with the exuberance it should warrant. Instead, there's a hesitancy to my delivery. A sort of preparation for the thing to fall away before I can grab hold of it. An indication to my listener to not get his or her hopes up for me; let's wait and see what happens. This practice is entirely untrue to my nature. I'm a goofy person. I like exuberance! My instinct is to jump into something and figure out the details later. But as adults, we have learned to rethink our instincts. What if we offend someone? What if we look ridiculous? Kids are great at following their instincts. They ask whatever comes to mind. There are no stupid questions to a child. They dance in public. I vaccumed a restaurant when I was two years old. I'm pretty sure I had a great time doing it, too.
I have been struggling with my direction lately, and I think part of the problem is that I've lost my voice. I've gotten so used to second guessing my instinct that I can't tell what it's trying to say anymore. The main reason I like writing these entries is that it's an excuse to let my voice say pretty much what it wants. It's great to see that people look at the page - I am a performer at heart, after all - but it's become more about my own expression than about getting someone else to look at it. But, if you are looking, and you have voice-finding suggestions that you love, I'm all ears. Or eyes, rather.
I started out looking for tonight's topic in a poetry-writing book I own. The back is filled with groups of spark words and as my eye caught the word "voice," I knew that was what I wanted to write about. I'm thrilled to have found my quote, primarily because I love Henry Winkler. During my freshman year spring break, my dad and I went to New York City for the week. We lucked into tickets for a show starring Henry Winkler and John Ritter. We also lucked into the fact that it was some sort of charity week on Broadway and all the theaters were doing special fundraisers. For this show, you could get your picture taken with those two gentlemen for $20. I still have the photo, of course.
But back to voice. This quote happens to touch on everything I was hoping to dig into. So it's not only credited to an awesome person, it's a truly lovely bunch of words. In writing, finding your voice means sounding like yourself on the page rather than copying another writer's style. I think that's why journaling can be so helpful in dealing with stress or depression. I'm pretty sure my "writing voice" is the closest thing I have to my instinct sometimes. If I just leave thoughts in my head, it's easier to push them away. But put those thoughts on paper...or the internet. Well, that's another thing entirely. Then they're out there. Exposed. People can see them and have opinions on them. That's terrifying enough to keep some people from doing it at all!
For as long as I can remember I've had the instinct to hold back good news or exciting plans. I mean, I won't even want to write about them. Somewhere down the line I developed the superstition that telling these things, even on paper, will jinx them and cause them to either go away or not happen to begin with. This instinct is closely followed by me blabbing whatever it is I was feeling protective of to most of my family and close friends as soon as possible. Then, when the thing falls through, don't I feel like a silly goose! "I should have kept my mouth shut," I think. "I knew this would happen!" Now, not all of my good news goes south the moment I spread it around. Quite a bit of it follows through. But the times my pessimism wins tend to stand out.
The down side of this tendency is that I now find it hard to trust the good news or good things that come along. I'm always sort of waiting for the shoe to drop. If I do mention something I'm excited about, it is not with the exuberance it should warrant. Instead, there's a hesitancy to my delivery. A sort of preparation for the thing to fall away before I can grab hold of it. An indication to my listener to not get his or her hopes up for me; let's wait and see what happens. This practice is entirely untrue to my nature. I'm a goofy person. I like exuberance! My instinct is to jump into something and figure out the details later. But as adults, we have learned to rethink our instincts. What if we offend someone? What if we look ridiculous? Kids are great at following their instincts. They ask whatever comes to mind. There are no stupid questions to a child. They dance in public. I vaccumed a restaurant when I was two years old. I'm pretty sure I had a great time doing it, too.
I have been struggling with my direction lately, and I think part of the problem is that I've lost my voice. I've gotten so used to second guessing my instinct that I can't tell what it's trying to say anymore. The main reason I like writing these entries is that it's an excuse to let my voice say pretty much what it wants. It's great to see that people look at the page - I am a performer at heart, after all - but it's become more about my own expression than about getting someone else to look at it. But, if you are looking, and you have voice-finding suggestions that you love, I'm all ears. Or eyes, rather.
The Quakers have always referred to a "light" within. You have picked up on another metaphor: voice. I think the "voice" is a paradox: it IS who we are, and yet it is somehow mysteriously "beyond" us as well--guiding us, reminding us of our past, beckoning us into adventure, connecting us with others. The "voice" is the primary tool of relationships: it is how we engage others. And for me, to articulate my "voice," (in writing or speech)is also to re-connect with my own self--to discover my true self and relate to myself again. Sometimes I will be listening to another "voice" in a song, drama, or story--and realize that it is MY voice. Thanks for your blog.
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