Sunday night, I went to a moon lodge.I sat in a roundhouse in the middle of the new forest with 16 women I'd never met before. Around a fire, we gathered as women and girl-kind to share stories and to tell our truths. It was pretty powerful juju. There was a talking drum that got passed around the circle, and when the drum was in my hand, I spoke. I verbally heart riffed. No planning, no comparing, I just spoke, totally unedited.
I wrote earlier in the year about how I write far better than I speak, and that still absolutely, positively stands, but the more I connect with my big beat-y heart, with the lineage of girl kind that has gone before me, truth spilling in ALL forms, is becoming something that I HAVE to do.
Til really recently, it's just not what I've done. I used to do everything I could to get out of answering questions in class - ducking under tables, needing the loo when it came to my turn to speak - I wanted so much to say the 'right' thing, to be approved of, that I never said anything. Then as I got older, I worried that I wasn't smart enough, that I didn't have the right words, so I said nothing. I worried what my mumma would think if I talked about sex or spirituality or if I swore, so I said nothing. I worried about what my mates who knew me as a boyband obsess-o would think if I started talking about the 'divine feminine' and deep shit, so I said nothing. But one of the many many messages and learnings my mumma has given, and continues to give me since leaving her body, is that life is short, don't fuck around doing anything that doesn't feel real and true to you. (Okay, she totally wouldn't of used the 'f' word, that's all me.) Yes, it's scary. Even now, when I DO speak in public, my mind, who has my heart on speed dial, shouts: 'Really dude-ess? Seriously? Since when did we have those words in our vocabulary? You do know that you're making us sound super wanky when you use words like 'energy' and 'the divine' in your everyday convo, right?' 'Why are you so freakin' open? Stop sharing EVERYTHING, you're an only child, you don't share.' 'Where is your censor button, g-friend? Jeez.' Luckily, my heart could not give a flying fuck what my head 'might' think. My heart has it's own vocabulary that is totally connected to the divine/source/my spiritual homegirl and when I speak and write and act from that place, all I can do is tell my truth.
When people talk about finding their voice, there's really no need. You've not lost it, it hasn't gone anywhere, but as members o' girl kind our stories, our voices, have been deleted from history, they've been repressed, censored or re-told through the eyes of dudes, so it's no freakin' surprise that we're a bit shady about telling our stories. But tell them we must. The more we write, the more we share, the more articulate our heart becomes and the sweeter, and significantly more louder, we can sing our truth song. Think it of it like heart-led Singstar. I freakin' LOVE Singstar.
It takes practice, in fact it IS a practice. In yoga we call it a sadhana, in fact I am totally inviting you to take part in a SASSY storytelling sadhana - mainly because I like a nice alliteration - every day, for the next 7 days - you in? Say what you're called to say. Share your story. Don't worry about what people 'might' think, if you find yourself using different vocab, or talking 'off topic' to what you normally talk about, that's cool too, just lean into your truth, feel it, accept it, TRUST it and say it. Tweet it, Facebook update it, write a blog post, write a whole freakin' book of YOUR truth, actually lets hashtag this shiz too - #SSS
Show up, tell your truth, give the world goosebumps.