For every picture there is a thousand words.

The statistic we accept is that one in four girls have been raped or molested. These are girls that remember and have become willing to talk about the abuse of their past.

For every four girls there is a rape/molestation victim that either is not comfortable talking about it, or doesn’t remember the incident. They are living with the fruit of a shattered past and trying to piece together why they live with a shame they have always known but never understood. I personally know several of these and am one myself. I know men and women that talk about their memories, and I know those that are still building the courage to remember fully the pieces of their pasts. 

the different expressions of art, life, and human interaction are all a voice. a unique form, expressed by me, carrying the timbre of my DNA, colored with my past, threaded with my experiences - all these are completely inherent to me. no other is exactly the same. 

the most basic example, when i sing, i release a power through that expression. being me, with a thready soprano that occasionally switches into a timorous alto, i can sing, i love to sing, but i do not in any way feel powerful or satisfied when i sing. in order to express the power that comes when human kind is doing and creating in the way they were meant to create i must find the expressions that are essentially me. 

this does not happen when i sing. its fine, its fun. very soothing to children. but not powerful. when i dance, i feel twinges of that power expressed. i love it. i feel a pulsating pleasure in how i was created and a thrill of gratitude that i love a multi-dimentional God, i can worship him with my movement. it will take practice and training to fully express what i feel and think through dance. but the pleasure is there even if only for me. art, running, yoga, public speaking, these are all various voices i have enjoyed using. i always will. but there are a few that when i speak through them, i feel a surge of pleasure at expressing what is in my heart. it is there i speak with the raw language of a human, glad to be alive and in love. when i express in these mediums, i want to caress my instruments. understand them. nurture them, and use them more. i’ve experimented with so many things. photography, baking, business, administration, event planning, marketing, interior design, pole dancing (one class. so painful), cross-fit….i’ve found on a few i treasure. like a trained singer nurtures her voice, coddles her time to practice, and thrills at the chance to perform, my discovery of these few voices of my mine are precious. when i hear someone sing well i want to go speak my language, and use my voice. i’m uplifted by their manifesting through their sweet spot. when i see an olympic gymnast perform their floor routine, it inspires me to speak with my voice. when i go to the symphony and hear the blended voices of world class musicians, where can it take me? don’t you think we all have the ability to fine that sweet spot, that expression of something inside us that when finely tuned, will cause the world to stop and want to listen? tonight i was listening to a friend sing karaoke, crying hearing to her rich, smoky alto. the sound she made drew me in, it was in her singing i sensed a kinship. i didn’t want to do karaoke or sing, i wanted to go speak what i was born to voice.   i’ve learned i don’t need to sing. i don’t need to paint. i don’t need to learn to play soccer or football or be the best at photography. if i want that sweet feeling of saying what i mean, expressing what is in me effectively, i must let my power be expressed my way. knowing the kinship to the power expressed by someone else and enjoying it, is entirely different. it is our human desire to express clearly that has driven me to hone my understanding of myself and find my unique and particular areas of possibility…..i must speak with my voice, my mediums, my places of innate expression. in this i’ve learned to wonder at and celebrate the voices of others. for my husband, its the drums. for my friend, it is photography. for another, it is sharing sermons and praying for the sick. for another, it is making food and teaching the world to stop and take care of themselves. to each his own. but when i see, hear, or experience their voices through these expressions, i feel the power of their personalities aptly expressed. it is powerful. it is beauty.

they have learned to let their voices be honed to carry His power. they’ve found their sweet spot.  nurturing the elements of my voice, 

caits