i have dreams. i'm talking about little visions. sometimes big visions.
they come when i'm sleeping, when i'm awake, during yoga, while cooking, while looking out the window. i've never spoken of them. to anyone. never even wrote them down. until i had one a few days ago and i finally told cj about these dreams {thoughts, ideas, visions, whatever you want to call them}, and so ceej suggested i begin to keep track of them and write them down. i've started to do that.
today, while napping, i had a very real dream indeed:
i was on some kind of stage. i had my guitar, and there was a small crowd. i began to play angel from montgomery, an old john prine song made popular by many different artists. i started to play the chords. it was sloppy. i was nervous. but everyone got the idea. they knew what i was about to sing, and everyone smiled and lightly clapped their hands in approval. we were outside. so i felt comfortable, for the first time, belting out the words and giving the melody my own flair. something i've always wanted to do. let go. completely. i've never felt something so powerful...and i really felt it. i could feel it in my entire waking body. that was my real voice. the one i've always hoped to awake. as soon as i woke from my dream i remembered a comment cj made a few weeks back when we were at the davis farmers' market. we threw a couple dollars into the guitar case of a local musician as he sang his heart out. it was beautiful. cj commented on how scary and out of control it probably feels to really let go in order to let your voice come out so wonderfully. and that made sense to me. it takes courage to let go. so much courage. so much trust that it will come out perfect. your own perfect. not someone else's.
i've always doubted my own voice. but i've always desperately wanted to open up and let it fly out at its own will and desire. yes, i am talking about my literal voice, but i am also talking about my voice: my words, my heart, my thoughts, my intentions. i tend to block them. to put them aside because it's just me. i don't sing loud because you sing just so beautifully and there's no need for me to take up more time. i don't contribute to the big conversations as much as i'd like because my ideas and visions just seems either too simple or too outrageous, and what you said was just fine anyway. my voice is stuck. and i've known it for years.
that dream woke me up. it felt so good to put aside inhibition and to let my heart come out. it's time. i'm taking the first step to letting my voice go, and i'm trusting that it will all come out fine.
i'll be playing my guitar for the rest of the afternoon, trying to let my voice go while trying not to disturb the neighbors upstairs...or maybe i shouldn't worry about disturbing them? maybe they'd like to hear a little angel from montgomery.
{this is the beginning of a new little series: dream-catching. i'll try to share some of my dreams with you, but i'll keep most of them in my personal journal as they are precious indeed}
