I'm still pretty much voiceless! I'm beginning to worry that it wont come back, listening to work friends who tell stories of teachers that talk too much despite their voices being little more than a squeak and then causing permanent damage to the voice box. Hmmmm... It is getting better.
I had a friend who used to ask me what it was that I was not saying that had caused me to lose my voice- a Donna? Hay no..... Louise Hay style she was a great follower of this philosophy. I have to admit that I went through a phase too following my separation where things seemed to unfold in such a way that it had me believing that the universe was in fact more mysterious than we really knew and things were connected etc, etc. I still like to believe there is more to life than just what we can see and understand and to an extent that we can create things in our life through thought and action but sometimes a voice can be lost just because someone next to you sneezed and they passed a virus on to you.
Having said all this I started to think what am I not saying and who am I not saying it too??
Well first of all I'd like to yell at the kids, they bicker at times Chicky Babe is slow to do her chores and then does them half heartedly, bantam boy is finicky which makes him a good choice to do the kitchen but he get cross at the injustice of the amount of work he does in comparison so he refuses to do a little more than he perceives her to be doing. I'm tired and I can't deal with that any more!!!!
I apologised to my cousin and aunt here on my blog- do I need to ring her and check if she saw it?
Do I need to have words with myself for not having my life together. I can't seem to get everything working in unison. If the house is tidy the garden is dead, then work demands attention and the house and garden seems to fall by the wayside, then I collapse into the couch at the end of the day sometimes overwhelmed by everything that needs my attention and I don't get into my studio and put onto canvas half the things that I think of. Sometimes my head is so full I can't find the space for thinking about art.
There are a couple of big questions rattling around in my head at the moment. One is how do you know you are in love? I've made some disastrous choices in the past thinking I was in love. You know in hindsight I don't think I was ever in love with my husband. I was 19 with a very low self esteem he was the first person who wanted to go out with me and I thought marriage was expected and the rest is history. Tim I loved he was so gentle and caring so different to my husband but very needy back then and unemployed and I didn't have space for another child (he has grown up a bit since I broke his heart and chucked him out for a while) The sculptor gave me butterflies in my stomach at the thought of seeing him, I idolised him and his work- he was like an addiction and I got my heart broken. Tim is persistent he's still here helping me out here and there and I do care for him and at times when I feel very alone and fed up with being "it" controller of the money, the house, the child raising, the decisions - down to what's for dinner and pleasing both very different tastes I think what am I doing? Why am I resisting? Should I just go for it and accept that we have a great friendship at which point my friends look a little alarmed because they think "I can do better". But I tell you the search is exhausting (If my "prince" is out there somewhere he'd better get his act together and get here soon!) Chicky Babe was alarmed because he 'doesn't take care of himself- he smokes continuously and is very scruffy!
Then I think he would be alarmed too I think he is happy to be on the edge of a relationship. He can promise to help me do something in the garden for example and then not do it and I can't get too cross because he technically doesn't have to, it's not his house, I'm not his girlfriend. Thinking back to the analogy of a relationship I came up with a little while ago, looking at a relationship as a dance where you and your partner move together using different steps to the same music, to create a dance, sometimes you might miss a beat or tread on each others toes but you pick up the rhythm and continue on. I've become quite attached to this kind of ideal. Where Tim is concerned he likes to watch me dance. He will drive me to the dance hall, he'll make sure the music is playing he might even sweep the dance floor down if it needs it but he doesn't want to dance with me. He doesn't want to take responsibility for the performance itself.
I don't really want to dance on my own forever.
So how do you know when you are in love and when is it the right one?????