I didn’t lose my voice. I just can’t find the heart of my story or the right words to express it.
Like teenagers talking all at once, ideas wave before my eyes vying for attention and making me dizzy. I blink them away because I sense they are distracting me from finding the jewel I seek. I silence them using the voice of my 8th grade teacher. “Empty barrels make the most noise.” They flutter away. It’s silent now.
Silence. What is it they say about silence? Silence is golden. Aha, the treasure I seek. Which reminds me of a line from the 1956 musical film by Rodgers and Hammerstein, The King and I. In a pregnant romantic moment between King Mongkut played by Yul Brynner and Mrs. Anna portrayed by Deborah Kerr, the king says, “When one does not know what to say, it is a time to be silent.”
Sage advice. So I quiet all of my thoughts and emotions. In that silence, I hear a sound of rushing waters. Then music trickles out like a spring, new and refreshing. It is my voice.
My fingers tinkle the keys of my laptop. Like musical notes, I string the letters together to form the right words.
A vision of Disney’s The Little Mermaid appears before me. Ariel has lost her voice and found her prince. I smile for it was in her silence that she touched and won his heart.
See you next time on January 22nd. Happy New Year!
Veronica Jorge
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Don’t spend money on green drinks, wrinkle creams, and hair dyes to take out the grey. It’s Springtime. Immerse yourself in nature and rejuvenate!
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Every Valentine’s Day chocolate in all shapes and sizes: loose, bagged, heart-shaped boxes, can be found everywhere. Including in my pantry, in the candy dish, on my plate. Well, you get the picture. I like chocolate. (I indulge year round).
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Featured Author Veronica Jorge credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York.
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It’s the dead of winter and I’m still raking leaves and collecting branches that the winds have broken and scattered; all of which will eventually be ground into mulch and reused and reclaimed to nourish the soil. I even pick up a few feathers from fallen birds; taking off my gloves to feel the smoothness of the feathers, and to admire the colors and designs in each one.
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Featured Author Veronica Jorge credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York.
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Veronica, What a great post. I’ve been struggling for the last year. Finally I finished Lost Witness and it turned out great (according to reviews) but my poor editor had to listen to my angst for 12 months. I wrote down dead ends and off cliffs but eventually my voice found its way back. I’m now looking at a new project and feel paralyzed once again. Thanks so much for reminding me this isn’t a unique problem and that we get through it. Have a wonderful holiday!