My then seven year old, energetic, bouncing ball of energy wasn’t himself when I picked him up from school that day. Head hung low, shoulders slouched, he avoided my eyes as we talked. When he finally gathered enough courage, he passed a folded sheet of lined paper from his teacher into my hand. It required my signature. Scanning quickly, I sighed.
Pausing between sentences, I said “T, why are you talking so much? ….. Is it because you are bored ? ….. Do you really have things on your mind that you need to say?…. Do you just want to hear noise?” My hands on my knees, I bent over to peer into those saucer sized green eyes that housed his spirit.
Sheepishly he responded, “I’ve got stuff on my mind. I need to get it out.”
Nodding knowingly, my shoulders and eyebrows rise with my inhalation.
I get that. I respect it.
Growing up I was told that I talked to much…ALL the time. It was written on every single report card. So much so, it made me question if I was worthy…worthy of having an opinion on any and everything, and all things in-between. My mind never stops analyzing, tweaking, working…Should I keep quiet until I’m an expert?
What followed were years where I consciously chose to temper my voice. Internally, I was miserable, feeling severely misunderstood.
Fast forward a few years…(More like 25)….
Putzing around my home, doing absolutely nothing important, I distinctly heard in my spirit :
“I created you to speak.”
It was simplistic voice. A simple sentence. No emotion. Direct…without explanation to the meaning or the why….And, it wasn’t my own, the bossy voice I hear regularly who tells me what I should be doing. It resonated from the pit of my soul and echoed in my ears. It was so strange that I twisted around quickly to see if someone snuck in my home and was about to attack me.
Nope. Just me. In my pajamas.
Whaaaattt???
MAJOR CONFUSION.
Whether you chose to believe in “those things” or not, is yours entirely to ponder. This is my truth. I heard what I believe is the voice of God from deep within my spirit. Honestly, it left me more confused than comforted…and yet it was strangely freeing in that I knew, that I knew, THAT I KNEW, I needed to speak. My voice was and is important.
So what am I to speak about? Who knows. Certainly not me….not yet.
I do know that I have constant chatter in my head. In an effort to get the hamster off the wheel, I birthed this blog and named it Chats A Lot. Appropriate, I thought. This has become a place where my thoughts and my voice can run wild.
Life is complicated and wonderful. It is a culmination of all the things you decide it will be. Sometimes who you think you are and the actions you take, are in conflict.I blog to explore those things that are complex. To celebrate, to dissect and construct my future days. To become the person I want to be.
I blog because I secretly hope it inspires you to find your own true self. Whatever that means to YOU. I don’t hold the definition but I hope this blog provides a window that will leave with the desire to search.
I blog because I when it all boils down to it, we all go through the same types of issues, with different people and unfamiliar faces. People tend to shy away from exposing their crazy. I am decidedly the opposite. I fling back the curtain in the name of growth. I hope you find encouragement here in knowing you are not alone. I, in turn, find strength when you ‘like’ or comment. It reminds ME that I’m not on a solitary journey.
I blog to find peace, for change, for growth.
I blog because I can…and…I have stuff to say.
Chats A Lot 
Very we’ll written or should I say said. I was proud in a way when I would have to sign those report cards, it meant you were comfortable in your own skin, that you were not shy , and you had many friends, and you were unforgettable. Life can shut you down but you’ve found your voice and it helps others to have this conversation.
LikeLike