The Word

It's been exactly one month since I launched this blog, entering the Holy Bloggersphere on Independence day. I am feeling its power, and the power words have to express, release, heal and connect. So in honor of this first milestone, I gratefully acknowledge the power of "The Word."

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In the beginning was the word. But it wasn't safe in my house. Words were revealing. Words were damaging weapons. Words were measures of worth. Words were not true. Words were stiffled.

Before I found my voice there was dance. Pure expression. Pure emotion. Wordless. Free from containment or interruption. Passion and pain in motion.

As I got stronger, I took on acting. Being someone else. Transference. Absorbing another's pain and drama. Someone else's words. I could empathize deeply, but it wasn't my story.

Eventually I let the voice out, raw, strangled, unsmooth. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it overworked, sometimes it didn't work. Sometimes it was broken. Still, I sang my tunes, I sang other's tunes. I developed my voice and a persona.

As I tired of lingerie and backup dancers to sell a song, I longed for my creative freedom on the Artist's path. My solo project was born, my lyrics, my melodies, my life stories, my presence, my light. My life in a disc. Wrapped in music, draped in harmony, shrouded in lyrical allegory.

As it freed me, it landed with the thud of indifference. Another chick singer? Yeah, what the world needs right now is another (aging) chick singer. Not a sex symbol, not eye candy, not predictable tales of seduction to a catchy beat.

I put down my sword. Turned back into my life. Big changes on my horizon…relationship, trust, partnership, marriage, pregnancy, home improvement, baby, 9/11, shock, fear, tearing down the walls of safety, shredding the cotton lining that kept me protected. Coming undone.

Like a squirrel with a nut, motherhood scurried me away and shook me senseless, cracked me open, splattering me onto the pavement in the process. Who was I anymore? How would I put the pieces back together again? Could I even go back to what I once was, yet what was I becoming?

When the dust settled, I cautiously stepped out onto the page…Back to words. Pure thought. The undecorated medium. My thoughts, my questions, my life on the page. No visuals, no melodies, ageless, timeless, body-less, sexless, pure. Only words.

In the beginning there was the word. And now, I return, free to speak and use my voice.

I hope it resonates.