The Sacred Power of Voice

The Train

Deep inside me there’s a train
One of those old clunky locomotives
Spewing smoke from its chimney
It clacks down the track
Gathering steam
For the journey

Inner shudders rumble their warnings
Of the imminent
Bursting of speed
Of sound
Of fury
Of power
As the sheer velocity
Threatens to melt the tracks
Over which I pass

There are some that say
“It’s been done. You’re outdated”
Those that would relegate me to some museum
Of transportation.

And still, I come

Roaring through the countryside
Iron black banshee
Laying claim to what is mine
MY voice, MY heart
Bringing with me
Those who have been silenced

Announcing our presence
Full throttle
Unhushed
That unmistakable voice,
The deafening whistle
At blinding speed
Broadcasting “WAKE UP”

We screech into the station,
Arriving at OUR platform
“But you should have been here earlier”, they say

Nope
It’s clear
It’s the right time
No time for meek apologies
We’re here now
Time’s up
Deal with it.

The Sacred Power of Voice

You know, the sacred doesn’t always appear reverent or quiet. Sometimes it’s brash or angry or just insistent where before it might have demurely waited. When thwarted for too long by inner or outer forces it can even come out swinging. In one of its other guises, it can be a steady rhythm of persistent presence. Underestimated in its peaceful packaging, yet an unmistakably fierce force. Whatever it’s clothing, it is at its core sacred, for it arises from unsung heart songs, which in the voicing become transformative light.

There is much evidence of these voices rising, straining free of old shackles that insisted on playing nice, not rocking the boat. They arise not just from those whose lives are touched by their group’s particular unfair treatment and torments, but from others too who can no longer bear the inequity in silence. From the Golden Globe & Me Too’s; to Black Lives Matter; to protests to protect DACA & immigration; to growing awareness of and dissent of the poverty and theft of Native People’s lives and the rape of the land’s resources; to Defense of LGBT equal rights to exist; to respect & protection of Muslim citizens; to equity for prisoners, and a call to end mass incarceration; to a plea for nuclear disarmament; to the Global Women’s Marches… Millions of women, men and children are showing up to voice a clear, resounding “NO” to these inequities, and more.

This is the sacred voice surfacing not only in protest marches, but also in everyday conversations and local actions that bring neighbors together, in all our glorious differences, as one. It’s not always easy, and is certainly not the old familiar ways of sticking with ‘our own’, with what we know. But it is alive, vibrant and full of promise if we can bring ourselves with open listening hearts to the heat of this fire.

Last week I was at the Women’s March in NYC where many powerful stories were shared and the sheer numbers of people of all races, gender identities and status who showed up was uplifting. It rattled old locked cages in me that I thought had long ago been sprung. I was blessed to spend the rest of the weekend with a special group of constellation facilitators as we digested many of these things together and investigated more forums for change. This was personal…and collective…and political.

This weekend at a Constellation* workshop another group came together to address Collective Trauma. Together we engaged with the personal, familial and larger culture’s limiting and supportive influences that show up in our lives and the lives of our communities. At times painful, at times expansive, we witnessed, moving, voicing, listening, stepping into a deeper understanding of what drives these forces. Together we can acknowledge what has been denied, help unfreeze what is ready to move, and begin to envision alternative connections. Beyond cognitive fix it mode, this work of the soul requires feeling ‘what is’ instead of averting our eyes and avoiding what, when held alone, is overwhelming.

I went home each of the three nights weary from all we held and learned during that day’s time together. Some of it was heartbreaking, some enlivening. But each morning I popped up ready to do more, as if some unseen hand had held me in my rest, rejuvenating me to go again to hold sacred space and participate in my own and others’ healing. At lunch I had to sit by the ocean and allow its immensity to hold me as I quietly wrote & integrated each morning’s discoveries. In this rhythm of intensity and breaks, the importance of rest shone clearly through as a key to sustaining connection to the goodness of life and nourishing my resilience to persist in the seeing and showing up in new ways.

Our voices are an antidote to powerlessness. This is a sacred vehicle we each have to express our desires -whether verbally or through expression with art, music, movement, presence, relationships, or involvement with what matters to us. It matters. We matter. It is that expression of the thundering train that demands change. When nourished by respites and connection, it cannot be stopped, unless we allow it.

How will we each use it? Can we use it in ways that contribute to positive change? If you’re fortunate enough to have the freedom of expression, how will you use it for yourself or others? If you don’t have that freedom, how can you safely show up in your brilliance anyway and seek connection with those who care? What is your truth? Will you use your gifts to voice what matters to you in this one precious life? Start small or big, just start. Bring your unique song to the journey. The train is here.

*For more information on Constellation work: http://www.starrpotts.com/family–system-constellations.html