This week I have been thinking a lot about my voice, primarily because I have lost mine, it disappeared on Sunday and has yet to return.
It’s hard not being able to express myself, to say with clarity what I want to get across, to be almost non-existent in a conversation, to not be able to work because I cannot converse with clients.
So today I have been typing, expressing myself in written rather than spoken words. I have of course done this in the past when I wrote my book or when I write my weekly musings to my subscribers. It’s just today it meant more.
The meaning is enhanced because I can’t speak or communicate my thoughts and ideas verbally. I am appreciating more the significance and value these words I am typing have, even though I might never meet any of you who read them.
I may never know which words resonate with you, which thoughts, you take and share with others or the impact that has. I hear snippets now and again, of how my book has been shared amongst clients at a counselling centre, or how a particular article struck someone and how they felt they wanted to get in touch; but the true reach of my words and thoughts will never be known.
It is both a responsibility and an honour to be in a position to be heard and sadly one I know not everyone has.