a place for it all to go

There was a time in my life when I lost my voice. I didn’t sing for others, I didn’t sing for myself. I was like a river that had been dammed.

I remember going camping during this time with some friends. We had set up our tents in a woodland site near a beautiful lake. Early one morning, I was awake before everyone else.

It was so quiet.

The lake so still.

The trill of a blackbird echoed through the mist.

And I was so full of it, my heart, my body, with nowhere for it to go.

I heard 95 year old composer and pianist, Emahoy Tsegue-Maryam Guebrou, otherwise known as ‘The Honky Tonk Nun’, talk in a radio interview about the need to create..

“Sometimes you need to share your thoughts, your feelings. If you are troubled, it goes on the piano. If you have some good news, it goes on the piano. If you have sadness about somebody dying, it goes on the piano. The piano shares my trouble, my joy, everything.”

It’s so simple. To create, to sing, to move, to make, is to allow an opening for your thoughts, feelings and experiences to pour through.

So I sing, I create, so that the river can find its way. Sometimes trickling, sometimes roaring, but always flowing.