Voiceless

 I gotten through all of haunt season with a strong voice, Saturday night, it started to crack. The threshold for what my voice can do was reached. I am anxious to see how it was tuned through this last go round. This has been the first time I have been able to fully extend and use my vocal chords for long durations. It has been fascinating to see how my voice affects some and not others. All this surface experimentation tangling in with the esoteric and symbolism of my life. I have met a young me, a wise girl who sees the greater, who carries the flame within her, and is voiceless in many ways because of her youth. It is a divine spark, and if I have to reconcile that this was all orchestrated for initiation, I will. I will always seek a deeper meaning. 

I have enjoyed this haunt season like no other. I have fully immersed myself into all that was happening and what was to come. Visions have come to pass and more have come. Markers of time I see now. I often question if any others world responds to them like mine; or I only look for deeper meaning, therefore finding it. Manifesting comes quicker now and monitoring my thoughts has been a task. And I think, if you are not aware of the quicker manifestation, this could become very difficult for some. What is this spark within some and not others? I start to question if this is all a program, on many levels. 

I think the most interesting thing is all the people I am around now. All reflections of each other in different ways. Is this what being around like minded people feels like? Everyone thinks we are all so dark in different ways. As I have sat in the cafeteria, witnessing the divine sparks all around me, I have thought, we are not the dark people. I see us as the Angels crawling out of the dark pits, each pulling more forward. Charla and Tim have built a safe haven for all of us to explore our inner spark of light and creation. It makes my heart turn to wanting to share the beauty of this world. 

Each night after the haunt, I would embark on the winding and dark road home. I had to fight paranoia hard to access the depth I wanted from these drives. My mind fought to not create a pattern of travel, take different routes home so a routine couldn't be observed. Fighting this deep fear has been difficult, especially since many visions have and are coming to pass now. I manifested a taser, which was amazing for me. But, fighting this fear to do something I love, and be in the moment was so rewarding. My love of singing and music. After five hours of stretching my vocal chords to the max, I could experiment with the sound of my voice, my vibration, through singing. I am being drawn back to music and vibration expression.

When I was little, I would sing in the closet. Partially because of my shyness, and partially due to my loud voice and annoyed mother. I had very little so me being punished normally took the form of my music being taken away. Which in that time, was my beat box and cassettes. Driving home after haunt nights took me back to those moments in the closet, singing out of my heart. Dark, foggy drives home under changing trees that canopied the wet glittering asphalt. Leaves breaking loose in the wind, drifting in front of my headlights into the dark night inspired me. This is what I was seeking, inspiration. Moments that have reminded me of the good in life. Experiences that immersed me in moments of reckoning. Memories stimulated and connections happening. 

I have met some truly fascinating people this season. A beautiful couple that were reflecting back to me facets of shining desires. My ears perked up when one of them said they used to play the violin. That was a long desire of mine. We chatted about various instruments and I learned they were in a musical therapy group. I didn't know those existed. I pushed away the nagging thoughts of finding new therapy, while listening to the various techniques used in music therapy. I listened to the gentleman tell me a story about his fear of singing in public because of a childhood stage fright experience. He was in a play, and got stage fright, unable to perform. I witnessed this as a child with one of my friends in school. I thought about my childhood experiences with performing while I screamed Bloody Mary at people for hours. 

In the early 1980s at Goldstein Elementary, we had music class. I think the teacher's name was Mrs. Smedley. She was my most beautiful teacher, reminding me of one of my Glamour Gals mini dolls. Mrs. Smedley played the piano, and we sang, well the girls did mostly. She worked hard to put plays together and filling her cast with singers. I never made the cut to the stage. I remember one time in particular making it down to the final six singers, but then not making the cut. I didn't realize how much that had affected me. And the other time I longed to be in a play, but had to sit in the benches and watch. At the time, I truly believed it was because I was poor and where I came from. But, not in Mrs. Smedley's class, she was looking for talent and I knew it. I also recognized when it was about my talent and I needed to practice more. One of my friends who did make it onto the talent show stage, froze up with stage fright. That memory jarred loose some lost memories as I listened to the griping fear that came up from the other side, or from on stage rather. I have been exploring these memories while driving home at night, connecting with music again. 

It was around the nine o'clock hour Saturday night that I felt the loss of vibration in my voice. Sunday morning, it was gone. It is now Monday morning, the day before Halloween, and Bloody Mary has no voice. I texted to let them know, I may have to be moved to a silent position on Halloween night. That is when it shook me, the synchronicities, and all that was being beautifully reflected back to me in my life. This new divine spark I had met could totally take the torch of Bloody Mary. And perhaps, I could happily, step aside and just enjoy listening. What profound thought and understanding had come from something such as loosing my voice. In these moments of connection, all is well. I feel "in-spirit" once again.