The Voice

It’s a reality. Any time I try to do something with what I know and who I am, I am bitch slapped by the little voice that says I can’t, that I won’t or that I’ll fail.

I’ve fallen in love with” the voice” in the past, I’ve let it keep me company and let its volume become louder than my own voice.

But that’s all changing now. I hear the voice. I welcome the voice, I pull up a chair so that it can become comfortable while it watches me push past and pull through and when I crank out whatever it is that I’m working on. I will let the voice watch and weep.

I grew tired of letting the voice run things. It’s not her show, it’s mine. And while I know that she will never disappear I’m learning to see her for what she is. A liar and a thief. But guess what, I’m letting her stay and I’m using her to push me forward. When she shows up I know that means I’m on the right path and I’m about to crank out something phenomenal. I almost want her to show her face so that I can prove her wrong and use her words to propel myself.

That voice, she’s become one of the best tools in my toolbox and I’m going to keep her around. Maybe it’s time you viewed that voice a little differently too. Maybe it’s time she stops just taking up negative space. Maybe it’s time you put a positive spin on her.

The Power of a Tribe

 

I used to read articles about finding your “tribe” and I would read blogs by women who were surrounded by other creative artistic souls. It seemed mysterious to me. I had a best friend and I had other women friends but I couldn’t get the “tribe thing” and I’ll admit I was a bit jealous and intrigued. Where were these women who rallied around each other, who had so much in common and who asked the hard questions to each other. The women who were spiritually alive and full of life and passion?

My life was full it seemed. I had all that I needed. My days were full of babies and PBS. Occasionally I was able to read a short fiction book and it was all enough in those moments.

And then, slowly, gracefully, steadily, these women started to trickle into my life. They showed up when I least expected it and in the most inexplicable ways. It was like they were being called from the corners of the globe into my life and I was being pulled into theirs. It was as if it came from a force outside of all that made sense. Seemingly, I woke up one day and there was a tribe. I couldn’t have created it, I couldn’t have wished for it to be any better than it was. Each woman finely picked, complimenting who I was, encouraging me to reach for more, challenging me to let things go, and cheering me to go deeper into who I was, who I am.

One of things on my list for the year was to skinny dip. I’d made naked snow angels but never skinny dipped. It had just never happened and I was ready. I had planned to do it all alone in the dark because that seemed…  bold  easy. And then shortly after my birthday rolled around I realized I was surrounded by two women from the tribe. Two women who were sexy and strong in their own skin and whom I loved to be around. Two women who joined me in the Guadalupe River at sun set on a January afternoon. I emerged feeling stronger and more beautiful than I had in a long time. Two women who live far away geographically but are still surrounding me.

I believe in the power of being alone. I am an introvert at heart. I believe in loving and knowing yourself enough to carry you through the moments of darkness. I believe those are the moments that you are bare and raw and where you learn the most. However, there is power in a tribe that can’t be explained. It’s like souls uniting outside of their bodies and then being linked wherever they go.

This tribe of mine looks like no one else’s. These women are each full of fire and zest, some are calm and some are all about the loud. Some of them I have never met in person. But I look forward to the day that I sit around a table with all of them, a day where they become parts of each other.

It’s hard to remember a time when I didn’t know them each but when I look around into the corners of my life, it seems like they were always there.

And for that I am thankful.

 

The Power of a Playlist

 

I don’t consider myself a music aficionado. I don’t scope out who’s up and coming in the music world. However there has never been a time when music wasn’t a centrifugal force in my life and I can’t imagine a life where there is no soundtrack.

When I was a little girl I would sit at the stereo and listen to Alabama on 8 track. I remember when my parents bought a new stereo from Sears and it could play records and cassettes. I listened to Lionel Richie and Whitney Houston when I was home alone and I’d dance for hours. I remember buying my first cassette tape with my own money, it was Madonna’s Like a Virgin. And so began the soundtrack of my life.

I can tell you the song that played at my grandfather’s funeral, the song that I blasted when a boy broke my heart and the song that I played when my mother set a boundary that I thought was unfair. I know the song that was my ringtone the day my marriage almost dissolved, the sound of it still causes my stomach to lurch.

When we are in the car, satellite radio is always on, when I write it’s with my headphones on. When the windows are open in the RV and the sound of summer fills the air you’ll find my record player perched nicely on the counter, playing something by the Eagles or Willie Nelson.

This is the playlist of my life. Without it there is an overwhelming silence and less passion. Would I hold the same memories had the songs not been there? I’m not sure, but I know this, it’s part of what makes me who I am. Each of these songs has become part of me.

When I need to be reminded of who I am I turn to my power playlist. The songs that ground me and cause me to re-focus and push forward. I am thankful for each of these gems and I carry them inside my heart.

I don’t want to know who I’d be without them.

What about you? What song pushes you to the depths of yourself? What song reminds you of your truth? Print out the lyrics and tape it inside your cabinet doors. Get them tattooed on your arms. There is power in the playlist of your life.

And if you don’t have a song that grounds you, it’s time to find one. I promise you there’s healing in music.