|Photo by Laura Bear|
Every one of us has a voice, though. Even the ones who can't speak. In my other career, I work with people who struggle with the expression and understanding of language every day: language lost through stroke or brain injury. What was once so natural becomes a strangled struggle to utter a single volitional sound or a constant failure to find the right word. Words once taken for granted become wispy figments for those who travel in the twisted world of the injured brain. I love language. Written language, poetry, and story-telling create a vivid alternate world for those who can partake. What happens when that world is cut off? Language is communication: written, spoken, painted, drawn, numeric, gestured--no matter the mode, we strive to communicate our thoughts, ideas, needs, desires. We are here to interact with others. Human beings need language in some form to become both part of and separate from the whole of humanity. Each voice is an important thread in the tapestry of this giant work of art we call Earth. The differences are essential to the strength and beauty of this world. Each one, fragile on its own, but strong in union. Different, unique, but together. No one insignificant. No one discarded. I expect a lot from language. From people. From myself. I want to be moved. I want to feel as much as I can. I want to know as much as possible. I wish this for all of you, too. For all of us. Thank you for checking in. I would love to hear your voice.