My Voice

Life became too heavy for me. It’s not a big surprise since the current situation of our world, countries and neighborhoods are just that: heavy. Like a giant boulder, we pushed just enough to see what lies underneath; full of creepy, crawling things and damp darkness. It hasn’t been pretty, even if it has been necessarily.

I could feel myself sinking, switching into self survival mode, which is a place I didn’t want to be. In effort to re-center myself, I deleted my social media apps off of my phone. It has taken weeks of long evening walks, letting my mind process and daydream to start hearing my own voice again. With it has come the urge to write; to let the prose seep out of my fingertips. Motherhood duties always seem to call, but, oh, how I need to write.

I have also felt the tug of music, which got me through the whole decade of my 20’s, sweep me away again. Even as a starving student, I still seemed to scrounge up enough cash for weekend concerts of various indie bands. (Who if I named right now, would completely date me.) While I don’t have that option, I still have I’ve been staying up late making playlists of old bands and new, finding the right lyrics and melodies that give my quiet thoughts a voice.

I’ll return to the social media battles soon, though I’m really not the fighting type. However, not until I feel it is my voice that is speaking.