Weight of words, light of heart
I watched A Star Is Born twice this weekend. Once, alone, second with my family. I’ve listened to the soundtrack on repeat and I have ached for love and cried for addiction. I’ve thought about what it is to share our voice and the resonance and vibration of truth. The way a voice expressed affects each of us in deeply profound and personal ways. I’ve thought about the weight of things we don’t say and the cost of letting what we do say be shaped by popular thought rather than the truth of our heart.
I took a yoga workshop Sunday and the teacher talked about kinks in the garden hose. These kinks are the places where the flow of energy is interrupted, where it gets stuck. She talked about how uninterrupted flow is where strength comes from. Structure supports our flow and when it is kinked, like a hose, the flow becomes a trickle. She talked about noticing, going deeper, understanding. And then, she guided the class into wheel. I couldn’t go.
Wheel is a heart opener, a victorious pose of opening and expanding, of pushing past fear and bending with trust. Physically, I can do wheel. I am strong and I am flexible and I am capable. When my heart is heavy, the emotional weight of whatever I hold there keeps me down. Resisting the lift, the shine, the expanse. A kink interrupting my flow.
I am afraid sometimes to use my voice. I know it is the remedy to the weight that accumulates on my heart. All those words left unsaid. Sometimes though, I am afraid of judgment. Family, friends, strangers I haven’t met yet. There is much to be said and so many sensitivities around how to say it. I sometimes worry that I will be misunderstood or that my words will in some unintended way cause hurt or harm. And so sometimes, I let it sit. Heavy. On my heart.
I sat with a friend yesterday and talked about this. How pushing past the edge of our fear smoothes the kink in the hose. How we outgrow patterns we have learned along the way and how liberating and terrifying that can be. About all the ways we have been taught to swallow our voice. I felt the weight on my chest. The same one that interrupted my flow Sunday and has kept me from sharing much of my writing lately. I heard myself encouraging her voice and I heard my hypocrisy.
And so my friends, a small offering. A piece of truth and reflection. From a heart stretching to be open and from the not so far side of my own scary stories, a gentle reminder that your voice is valuable and necessary. And that when we speak from the heart, we open it and we lift it. We don’t have to be rockstars or Lady Gaga, but when we step into our flow, with our song, our story or even our simplest truth, we light the world a little brighter, and, we light the way for others to do the same.