Will My Real Inner Voice Please Stand Up

At a recent write-in meeting where a group of us writers gathered to well, write, someone mentioned how there are already so many stories and books out there and so many more on the way.  So why are we doing this, what’s the point?

I had been having thoughts along the same line myself, but not just about writing.  Anything that I have an interest in, whether it’s writing, astrology, music, or even Excel spreadsheets, there are already so many other people doing it and even better than I could ever hope to.  Who wants to work hard to be mediocre, to just be lost in the crowd of one of many.  This leads me to feeling defeated before I’ve even had a chance to begin.

While the feeling was swirling around in the background in myself, I had no answer or response to it, as if it was the whole of the argument.  That there was nothing left to be said about it, only something to come to peace with.

But when the question came from someone outside of me, surprisingly an answer came to my lips.

Every person has a unique way of viewing the world.  All 7+ billion people could write the same story and none of them would be the same.  Provided that all 7+ billion people had found their own unique self inside and had learned how to give it a voice.  That’s the difference for me (I realized in hindsight) between feeling defeated by my writing and it bringing me immense joy; which voice am I using?

Writing for me has always been about self therapy and helping me to find my voice.  I write myself silly when I’m alone trying to get all of the garbage and conditioning out of me so that maybe some room will be made inside of me to hear what it is that I have to say.

Sometimes I drift away and forget why I write and then it becomes more about trying to write for other’s enjoyment, when the only way it really works for me is when I write for my own enjoyment.

It’s not easy for me to keep a hold of myself and what I really feel and think.  Everyday I’m bombarded with so many opinions and popular beliefs of others in the world, that the delicate thoughts and feelings of myself (when I’m not around or influenced by anyone else), start to get buried and I forget that I didn’t feel like others did to begin with, especially if I’m tired and worn down by life.

Which I have felt tired and worn down the last couple of years.  I feel a little frustrated with me that I’ve lost ground and have to start the steady climb back up to uncover myself from all of the crap (news/politics, thoughtless/parroted opinions, awareness programs, shaming, etc.) going around, for the umpteenth time in order to rediscover my own voice.

But I know I have one.  I know how much joy writing brings me when I’ve found that voice and start using it, and so I know that while I’m tired of climbing this mountain, it’s completely worth it in the end. {Just keep swimming}  <– I’m trying to swim up mountains, maybe that’s a part of my problem.

I find that with anything I do, my motivation can’t be about doing it to be the best or for any kind of recognition at all.  It has to be because it brings meaning into my life.  Because it’s something that nourishes my spirit and soul.  Because it helps me find the places in which I’m in hiding and covered up, and washes it away so that I’m renewed.  Because I think ultimately what I want (if you were to hold me down and make me put it into words), is to give my soul an uninhibited voice in this world.

I feel the truer me inside rattling the prison bars that I’ve put her in with what has become too limited of thinking that I have arrived at with so much grief about things turning out as they did with my family.  Overwhelm of emotion and a feeling of powerlessness over what happened in my life led to parts of me having to shut down temporarily so that I could process everything in smaller chunks and gulps instead of trying to take it all in at once.  Necessary for short-term survival, yes, but it’s not an appropriate place to live permanently.

And so comes the uncomfortable part of the process, where it’s time to start walking beyond the hurt and grief and stretch myself back to more wide open skies so that I can see and breathe again.  Otherwise, my grief will become a habit and I’ll be stuck there for the rest of my life.  I have to rejoin life again even if I have to go kicking and screaming the whole way.

This part requires more courage on my part than surviving the hard times, because it requires that I trust in life and love again after being shown just how ugly life can sometimes get.  It requires that I trust in something bigger than myself.  It requires vulnerability at the deepest level.

Vulnerability because there are no promises that I won’t be subjected to something painful again.  There’s no way life can promise that.  But if I don’t take that risk or chance, then I also won’t get to know love anymore because closing to one, closes me to the other.

I didn’t go through all I’ve gone through to be here (being born, surviving puberty, etc.) just to lock up and die a slow death inside of myself just because tough things happen.  I came here to accomplish something and that something requires that I be of sound mind and health.  It requires that I be alive and feel all of the things that come with being alive, and not just the things that I want to feel, but ALL of the feelers.

Only when I reach that more balanced state in myself, only when I have healed myself, am I capable of beginning to understand and figure out what it is that I came here to do.  Until I’ve rediscovered myself and my voice, I don’t really have that much to offer anyone else.  I don’t have advice, solid opinions, clear perspective.  All I can really do is parrot what I’m hearing from others (or sharing confusing muddled half opinions of my own), and I don’t like doing that.  That makes me feel like a plastic robot and my soul yells and scratches me up from the inside in protest when I do that.

My authentic self, my truer voice, is what I’m searching for and the only way I want to express myself.  Which I *have* learned doesn’t necessarily mean being blunt, callous, defensive, etc.  I’m learning a softer more agreeable way.  One that works much better for me as well as others.  <–  It’s a process of trial and error.  So while I don’t like sharing anything less than my truer voice, I have to start somewhere which means practice and showing the messy road that leads me back there.

But it is *that* voice I feel is worth sharing in the world, even if it gets lost in the sea of a million other voices.  I am okay with that, because I’ve known no greater joy and satisfaction in life than when I’ve found and am using that voice.  And that’s something that comes from within me and that I have control over.  It doesn’t require that anyone else around me change or do anything differently.

when-you-find-your-voice-your-life-takes-on-grace-quote

I Heart Responsibility

I had a horrifying self-realization today.  Well, almost.  I’m not sure that I’m at a place to fully admit it to myself, so I don’t know if that qualifies as a realization or not.  First I’d like to try it on before I decide whether or not to buy it.  So here that goes.

I like responsibility.  There.  I said it.

Maybe it’s my natal Saturn (super serious business dude) in Leo (all things fun and joy) with current transiting Jupiter (let’s expand the energy of the sign I’m floating in to ridiculous levels of yay) having recently moved into Leo, that’s talking.  Or.  Maybe the reality (oh hi Capricorn) of the situation, is that <gulp> . . . I like responsibility.

A memory from my childhood that keeps popping up as of late, is one in which I’m about 8 years old and sitting in the upstairs of my grandma’s house.  I had the TV on in the background so I didn’t feel alone.  Transformers were on.  I was in love with Optimus Prime.  That’s neither here nor there.  I just wonder sometimes why my initial love interest was that of a robot.

Anyways.  To entertain myself, I had gathered a bunch of books from off the shelf.  I had gathered other materials from around the house, such as a date stamp and ink pad.  A ruler.  Tape.  A stapler.  Paper.  Pen & pencil.  I arranged everything on the coffee table and then sat myself behind my “desk”.  I arranged the books in order by size and then faced them away from me.

I pretended that I was working at the library.  Someone (a go-bot maybe?) had just come to my counter to check out some books.  Good.  I pulled the books closer to me and in a very orderly and organized way, I wrote down the name and author of the book to keep for my records what books were being checked out.  I then made sure that the date stamp was set for the proper amount of days ahead in which the books would be due.

I had already taped pieces of papers into each book and drawn the lines on the paper, where I carefully stamped the due date into the proper square for each book.  I then let my customer know when the books were due, and that if they were late then there would be a fine for every day they were late.  If they failed to return the book, they would owe the price of the book.  Then smiling cheerfully, I would tell them to have a good day.

I could do this for hours.  This was great fun for me and brought me joy.  Having a natal Gemini Sun/Jupiter which sextiles (less than a degree) with my natal Saturn, this hit me in all the right places.  Books.  Communication.  Order.  Structure.

Gemini can be such a schizoid sign.  Many Gemini wonder if they are, or are even diagnosed with, Bi-Polar disorder because of their very nature to swing one way and then another in an instant.  While it may be hard to be around someone like that, it’s even harder to live with it inside of you.  With my natal Jupiter there blowing up my sun in this already scattered sign, I often felt like I was coming undone inside.

But to add to that, in direct opposition was my Neptune/Moon conjunction in Sagittarius.  I ping-ponged from one to the other.  Internally I would run back and forth from my ‘shattered into a thousand pieces’ Gemini Sun/Jupiter to my very foggy, blurry, confused, emotional, sensitive, lost and scared Sagittarius Neptune/Moon.  I say ping pong, but it was more of a cocktail.  I would just swing from one extreme of the cocktail to the other.  Intellectual observer to emotional zealot.  Inside I was very shattered and emotionally freaked out as a general rule.

As I’ve already mentioned, my Gemini Sun/Jupiter sextiles my Saturn.  Sextile is a favorable aspect.  It is an opportunity for me to have a harmonic relationship between these planets if I choose to put in the effort.  My Sagittarius Neptune/Moon has a trine to my Saturn.  A trine is the most favorable aspect.  That’s a talent and strength of yours.  It’s also where you can tend towards laziness because it’s *too* easy for you.  You don’t have to try hard to make it work, and so you may never push yourself in that area to move into greatness.

So my natal Saturn in Leo, as much as I bitch, moan, and complain about the guy . . . is actually my saving grace.  He is my anchor.  He is the one that goes marching straight into the center of my internal freak circus and straightens that shit out.  If it was not for my Saturn in Leo in the 5th house grounding these other extreme energies in me, I would have long since been locked up in a psych ward.

Because he’s the one that brings the sanity to my internal chaos, it’s because of him that I can quiet down my demons and relax . . . and therefore . . . enjoy myself and my life.

People may look at a librarian, analyst, or a business professional in general and think of how boring or dull that is.  The word accountant brings up images of a stuffy, conservative, tight-ass.  And I feel that used to be true to some degree.  However, I would argue that there are those types of people in every walk of life.

But for me, it’s because of the nature of Saturn that I’m able to enjoy life.  In fact, it’s through Saturn that I’m able to bring all of that internal creative energy that floods my system, into existence.  With Saturn I’ve gained discipline, strength, perseverance.  Through incredibly hard work and determination to not become a complete nutcase, I’ve learned how to provide a solid structure for myself in which to allow the chaotic creative force an outlet into this world.

It is no easy thing to bring in abstract thought and ideas from the ethers of imagination and your mind, and then continue to pull them into an actual plan of action and then follow through with that plan until completion.  The effort could be the accumulation of all of the efforts of your entire life.  THAT is how hard it is.  That is also the epitome of the sign Capricorn, the natural ruler of the 10th house.

The 10th house cusp is called the MC or Midheaven.  The 10th house is your legacy or what you leave behind or are remembered for after you’ve gone.  It is the totality or collection of your efforts while you were here.  What did you build and work on continually throughout your life that is strong, solid, and will withstand the tests of time?

My MC happens to be ruled by the natural ruler of Capricorn.  I have no natal planets there, but I can look to the ruler of Capricorn, Saturn, to see where in my life this is all going to play out.  Which brings me to my 5th house, the house of fun and love and pleasure.

If I were to look at my life like a trend line from this perspective, look where I’ve been in order to project or guess where it is I’m going, then I can see how I’ve had to work incredibly hard over the course of my life to move from being a very broken, shattered, and deeply wounded individual to one who has had to very carefully, tenderly, lovingly put myself back together piece by fragile piece.

I’ve had to forgo partying, letting loose, and living la vida loca in favor of working on fixing myself.  Being strict with myself.  Not letting myself have any excuses.  Not giving up no matter how many times everything re-shattered inside of me.  Learning to stand my ground instead of running in fright.  Confronting myself, my shadows, my weaknesses.  Confronting others, their shadows, and their weaknesses.  Learning to breathe through the terror and stay conscious.  Learning to forgive myself whenever I slipped backwards.

Continuing to take steps forward even if I have failed a hundred times or been humiliated, disgraced, or abandoned by everyone I knew.

Learning to forgive others and seeing their own faults as an outward sign of the struggle that they too fight inside.  Just like me.

Until a day came where a great shift began to happen in me, in which I got to view and experience life from a whole new place.  Not one that was based on struggle and misery.  Not one that was some horrible existence I was doomed to endure.  But a life that was literally shimmering like gold made of diamonds.  One of warmth and laughter.  Fun.  Love.

I’ve started to see glimmers of this life flicker into being here and there more and more as years have progressed.  This is Saturn at work.  It’s there and then it’s gone.  It comes back and then I drop it again.  I’ve figured it out! It’s there for longer . . . longe . . .  and then it slips from my grasp again.

As I continue to put in the hard work on myself, my life continues to gain more love overall . . . more warmth . . . more joy and laughter.  I become more and more at peace with myself and who I am.  I let down my guard for longer periods of time and allow more people into my heart, making my life experience richer and richer.

This is what being responsible has done for my life so far.  I don’t think I just like responsibility.  I think I like like responsibility.  I may even love responsibility.  But there’s no need to rush this.

Adult