Aching for My Own Voice

A little over a week ago I wandered into our town's little Indy bookstore. I was looking over their new books and picked up a little gem titled, When Women Were Birds  Fifty-four Variations on Voice by Terry Tempest Williams. Any book title using the world voice in this way intrigues me because in 2005 when I moved with Dean and Hannah to the Cache Valley in Northern Utah, I spent the month of January devouring The 8th Habit by Stephen R. Covey. In that book he goes to great lengths to define voice, to describe how we find our own voice and then how we empower others to find their own unique voices. You know how it is though, you read a book and soak it up for a season and move on to the next one. This one was unique in that I did often pull it off the shelf and seek out something I might have remembered from it. It has never disappointed me so I sought it out again this time in response to finding Terry's book on Voice. Before I say more about that though there is a bit more serendipity I need to describe that took place after picking up that one little book.

The owner of the bookstore, Judith, seems to be a walking librarian with knowledge of a book's market value, it's timelessness, it's location in her store and most important to me she seems to know the heart of a book and its author. That is what touched me on this particular day. 

As I opened the book I realized it was about an author who had spent time in the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge near Brigham City, UT. The photo you see here is from my last personal outing one day in the spring before I met Dean in Salt Lake City with the last load of our belongings to relocate here in Minnesota. It was mating season and I was fortunate enough to witness this dance of Western Grebes on my journey. This day of my life was like one of many for me in Utah. I barely scratched the surface of the beauty in that place. This day the bookstore I told Judith about this day. She asked if I was familiar with Terry Tempest Williams. I said I was not and she lit up saying, "You need to start with Refuge then. It's about her journey through her mother's death and the bird refuge." I bought it instantly. As I was checking out she informed me of the author's upcoming visit to St. Paul the following week. 

I came home expecting to take a nice little trip into the refuge with the author and reminisce. I did do that but as I read page after page I began to understand that I was encountering a writer of the soul and quickly became aware that God brought this book my way and with it a recognition of voice, my very own voice. I felt understood for the first time in a very long time.Terry's writing comes from an amazing integration of her profession, her family, her faith and location and that is her voice. I think when you have done the work it takes to discover your own voice, you become incredibly real. 

We did go hear her speak in St. Paul. The venue was a chapel on the campus of Macalester College. The seating was in the round and the beams above were large and led up to a glass ceiling. It felt a bit Nordic and I liked that. Terry spoke after three people performed a musical rendition of one of her writings. They played instruments made from nature including tusks from a beached whale. It left us breathless. Terry took the stage and spoke. It became a very spiritual time as she read from heart in When Women Were Birds. The last half hour she let us ask questions. I asked one. She answered it and thanked me for my courage. I said something about finding Minnesota difficult. She encouraged me to watch the birds on the Mississippi this year. Then I had her sign my book.  As I approached she looked me in the eyes and said some profound things to me that for now will be mine alone. Her husband saw me and pulled up a chair to talk to me adding his validation of my voice. It was profound. I left in tears and contemplation of how I could return to my voice here in Minnesota. 

As I have contemplated that question and have come to realize that for many reasons the answer merely lies in my own choice to value myself and not for one minute think it is anything but sacred. I have worked hard to be honest and real and I know that moving forward is simply doing just that.