The voice from within us.
Growing up in quiet, rural Connecticut, I was sheltered and buffered from the bigger world. Social, political, or economic issues were never hot topics of discussion in my house. Cultural Art and Literature were mostly the focused points of interest.
When I grew up and went off to college, new friends and teachers educated me on the various levels of government, environmental and social structures, and that helped to broaden my scope of the surprisingly diverse universe around me.
It wasn’t until I got married and started a family though, that I began to formulate my own set of personal guidelines and values. Oh, as a good and loyal wife, I listened to my husband’s very definite opinion on every given subject, but I developed strong convictions of my own, as well.
Never one to rock-the-boat when I was younger, it wasn’t often that I was in need of voicing my own opinion. I usually listened politely, nodded at appropriate intervals, and went about my own business. But as I got older, and more familiar with myself within the world-at-large, I wanted to express my opinion; to boldly claim my rights as an individual.
Diverse standpoints leading our political rallies, demonstrations for the rights of women and different races, transgender, and personal sexual preference, have caused the world to sit up and take notice of our evolving civilization. You can’t turn on the news today without vividly seeing the upheaval that these persistent, aggressive opinions are causing.
It’s really scary.
It doesn’t look like there will be emancipation for anyone, anywhere, either.
I think that everyone and every institution, regards their position as the most viable. I know that I hold my set of rules-to-live-by with the highest regard.
When I started writing about what happened to me, I wanted to make a loud, bold, statement. I wanted my story to be read throughout the world. I wanted every woman, from every nation, every culture and socio-economic level to be enlightened by my outburst of Shock, Denial, and Acceptance concerning what had happened to me. I wanted to infuse people with good energy. Save lost souls. I didn’t think my soul needed saving; I thought that I was doing just fine. In writing and rewriting the many drafts of my story, I came to realize that I did need to salvage the broken parts of my own soul before I could even attempt to pontificate to others.
The process of rewriting is to polish and refine.
I have been polishing and refining myself all these years. Trying out new ways to enable me like myself better. To stop rushing through the tasks of each day and just enjoy moments with my children more, and to take time out just to relax and be intimate with my husband too. And it feels pretty good to be able to say (and really mean it) that I-am-okay. I’m happy with who I am.
Sometimes I’m overtired from household chores, and overstressed with book related deadlines, and sometimes I feel like no one’s doing what they say they’re going to do, but me.
With all that day to day up and down and all around chaos, I still try to listen to that voice of reassurance in my head so I can keep it together and cope with the fast balls thrown over my plate.
A very dear friend shared a quote when I was feeling overwhelmed. She’d said, “This will keep things in perspective if you think, ‘You can eat a whole elephant, one bite at a time.’”