There are days I miss things from my past.
It’s not regret. Or scarcity-based thinking. It’s a deep understanding of what was, in light of what is. I suppose it’s a hint, a clue to what is next. Not a craning of the neck as I look behind me, but a soft focus to see wider in this moment of now.
Something to notice. To listen to.
The thing I missed today, is the whole-body feel of speaking all the sounds in every word, as if each one is deliberate, chosen. An offering into the space between us so that together we might move forward or turn in a new direction... Words spoken (or left unspoken) irrevocably alter relationships. We cannot unsay or unhear anything. Though logic may be communicated, there is a difference when the same words spoken are in a voice that is free versus one labored with tension.
On stage, attention to detail, clarity, commitment and conviction are required in order to be heard. In life, these same skills can come across in every day conversation as formal, elite, or affected. And so there may be a tendency to pull back or mumble, even when it matters most. It’s not about volume. It’s about intent.
I remember seeing James Earl Jones on Broadway. We’d secured tickets only 3 rows back, and I could see every shift of thought, hear every note in his rhythmic cadence. His booming resonant voice vibrated my bones… I don’t remember the play so much, just his presence and how safe I felt when he spoke.
One of the things I love about life is that it is so much larger than my two eyes can see… At just about the time I was missing this work, missing the joy of speaking not just logically, but sensually, two women have come in to my studio to work… on their voices…
It’s quite the most perfect thing. To get to dive deeper into work that feels natural and necessary… with a point of view that is larger, wider than when I last approached it.
To see the hiatus as a gift of perspective.
always in motion,