Winter. Snow. Hibernation. Introspection. Yes, all of those things. Permission and voice. I have waited a lifetime to find my voice and permit myself, not only to use that voice, but to really inhabit my own knowing. Why has it taken over half a century to arrive? There are many reasons I think; family of origin, organized religion, school, society etc., etc.
I do not want to be a passive participant in life. That is why I am so passionate about sharing the marvelous and little-known lives of women from history. It lets me sneak around the corner using my voice to highlight theirs. I am at a point in my life, however, where I want to sing more from my own soul!
They Persisted, the second edition and They Roared are in the final stages of completion! Along the way, I realized that it is much safer to write about other women and their voices. I'm not stripped naked and sharing my soul.
The journey has been long and arduous, with a steep learning curve. Sometimes it was all just too much! It may be the most challenging thing I have ever done and probably would have given up if not for two very critical people in this process, Laurie Martin and Dana Peterson. Thank you both. You have done what I could not. The final edits are nearly complete. Through the voices of the women in both books, I have begun to know and believe that it’s ok to use my own voice and to sing from my own soul. I may never write another book, though, and this process has been extremely humbling. As I have said before, many times, I am a work in progress, but then aren’t we all?
The following piece, sent by a dear friend, spoke to me, loudly! I want to share it with you today. I hope you enjoy it and maybe it will speak to you as well.
You have permission to inhabit your own life. To say no To say yes. To inhabit your own knowing Your own body, And all you allow or do not allow within it.
To love who you love. To feel. To inhabit anger, contentment, joy. And heavy sorrow. To be full of strength, and to know weakness.
Permission to stand for something. Or to walk away. To find rest. To tell your story. To give or take what is yours, And to never explain why you leave -- Or why you stay.
You have permission, grand permission, to have a voice. And to use it. And to let others have theirs too. To add your voice to the Grand Mosaic, Your brilliant tile to humanity, and not be silenced.
You have permission to tell the truth and to let others tell theirs. Or to be in quiet. To choose to engage in the old wars To win the game. To lose it, or to stand firm. --Or to find something higher.
To know. --When to listen, Or when to be cracked open. To let the silver spores of being infuse your life Or to watch your tender soul unfurl, and come to flower.
You have permission to be Wild. So wild To live in, under, to live *through*. To experience belief. And what it is to follow. To Lead, Or to gather all you own, your whole being, if need be, and take up your sacred path.
You have permission to live in your full truth today, Even if it that truth is gone, tomorrow. To be reborn. Stunned like a babe, gasping from the womb, only to find rest in the warmth and soft breast of new Knowing.
You have permission to follow the call of your soul -- Even if it doesn't make sense. Even if it is inconvenient. Even if it only forms more questions -- Even if it only brings you freedom, Or a heavy burden.
For you are not a herd beast. *You are a Being of Light* Individuating your way out of the sleeping tribe. You are an archangel, exalted to human, Spreading the great arms of your wings into Life.
You are a Boat Builder, A Clock Maker, A Worker at the Compass. Full of beauty. Complexity, and magnificent contradiction.
You, my dear, are a Singer of the Soul.
Never, Ever, ask for permission.
~ Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer) Midwives of the Soul
art | Robert McGinnis